


Cleft Points

by kibosama



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 01:21:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 42,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19757689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibosama/pseuds/kibosama
Summary: Voldemort called me in, ranted and raved about Harry Potter (which I understood, I've done a bit of ranting myself about Potter) then about Dumbledore (again, I couldn’t blame him as the old man drove me mental sometimes) and then gave me a task.Kill Dumbledore.I'm a Slytherin, and we are excellent at keeping our hides intact. Serving an evil madman that was perfectly willing to throw my life away was ludicrous. Not following him left me with only one option, however.Dumbledore.Like I said, I hate cleft points.





	1. Chapter One: Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> So while I was stumbling around my Things I'm Working On Folder, I tripped into a section that I have not seen in literally years. And lo and behold, some of my fics that I wrote years ago--fics I thought lost in cyberspace--were in there! I decided for grins and giggles to add them in. Why not, after all?

Chapter One: Decisions

When you choose an action, you choose the consequences of that action.  
-Lois McMaster Bujold

A few years ago, before I entered Hogwarts, my grandmother told me something that has always stuck in my head. She said that in everyone's lifetime there are cleft points, moments when we are forced between two options, and choosing either way will impact the rest of our lives. I understood intellectually what she meant, but the full impact of her words didn't hit until the summer before my seventh year. 

I hate cleft points. 

Voldemort called me in, ranted and raved about Harry Potter (which I understood, I've done a bit of ranting myself about Potter) then about Dumbledore (again, I couldn’t blame him as the old man drove me mental sometimes) and then gave me a task. 

Kill Dumbledore. 

As tempting as that was, and as often as I fantasized about it, I recognized the full implications of the order. I had been branded a Death Eater just because it was expected of me. I hadn't had a choice. But this—this I had a choice on. I could obey, or refuse. 

To Voldemort's face I accepted the task, but we both knew that my chances of succeeding were slim indeed. It was then that I realized the true nature of the man I was sworn to obey. He didn't care if my life was forfeit—he didn't care about my family. A part of him was entertained by the notion that I might fail. All of that considered, why was I following him? 

I'm a Slytherin, and we are excellent at keeping our hides intact. Serving an evil madman that was perfectly willing to throw my life away was ludicrous. Not following him left me with only one option, however. 

Dumbledore. 

Like I said, I hate cleft points. 

Dumbledore was Gryffindor to the core, but at least he cared about the people under him. I knew that Dumbledore would give me a chance to redeem myself if I went to him. As much as it galled me, I had no other choice than to turn to him for help. 

Dumbledore I could swallow, with some difficulty. It was what came with Dumbledore that made me choke. The Golden Boy—Harry Potter. Potter and I have never been on good terms, but dammit, if he had a chance of killing the Dark Lord then he had my support. I'd even work with the Weasels if it would get me out of the Dark Lord's grasp now. 

After that meeting with Voldemort I went home, coming face to face with my mother. She was terrified, nearly shaking. It was obvious that she knew my task. I calmed her down, but didn't tell her anything of what I was planning. Sadly, I wasn't sure if I could trust either of my parents. It was their lousy choices that had put me in this position, after all. When she went to bed, I wrote a quick note to Dumbledore saying that I wanted to meet him and sent it off. 

The reply was waiting for me in the morning, simple and elegant. 

My office, today at noon.

I read that note three times, questioning my sanity. If Voldemort even suspected that I was switching sides my life wouldn't be worth a hill of beans. I suddenly had greater respect for Severus in doing what he did. Being a spy for the Light must be nerve wracking, to say the least. I was even more astonished that he had told me he was a spy—at this point, I wasn't even willing to trust my own parents with my true loyalties. I owed my godfather a very fervent thank you for his honesty, because that was the only thing giving me the strength to do this now. 

At this point, I couldn’t afford to second guess myself. I got up, dressed, forced some breakfast into my stomach and left. 

I was a little early for the appointment, but Dumbledore smiled at me genially and waved me to a seat. Instead of staying behind his desk he came around to sit next to me in a wing backed chair, conjuring up a tea tray to sit on the table between us. 

"How do you take your tea, Draco?"

As absurd as it was, the simple civility calmed me. "Two sugars, no cream please."

He prepared the cup and passed it to me. I was pleased to note that my hands weren't shaking. Maybe I didn't look as nervous as I felt. 

"So what can I do for you, my boy?"

Looking into those twinkling blue eyes, I almost lost my nerve. Facing an evil wizard known for his cruelty, that I can do. Facing kindness…that was more of a challenge. Taking a deep breath I swore to myself that if Severus was wrong about Dumbledore I'd hex him into next year. "Headmaster, I attended a Death Eater's meeting last night."

His eyebrows rose sharply. 

Before my nerve could break I continued neutrally, "Voldemort gave me the task of killing you."

Very carefully he set his tea cup back onto its saucer, eyes never leaving mine. "Indeed. Why are you telling me this, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I have no intention of following through on that order, or for that matter, obeying any other command that the Dark Lord might give me." I took a deep breath before asking formally, "Albus Dumbledore, Head of the Order of the Phoenix, will you give me sanctuary?"

A brilliant smile broke out over his face, and he looked so proud of me in that moment that my fears and unease melted away. I had made the right decision. 

"Yes, Draco, I'll give you sanctuary." His smile dimmed slightly. "Who knows of your decision?"

"You," I replied honestly. 

"Your parents?"

I just shook my head, eyes lowered. "I am not entirely sure that I can trust them. Severus will not be surprised by this, however. It will be safe to tell him."

"Ah. I see." Leaning forward slightly, he laid a hand on my arm. "You've made the right decision, my boy. I'm proud of you."

I snorted bitterly. "You never expected me to come to you, though, did you."

"I never doubted you," he denied quietly. The twinkle came back in his eyes. "I did worry about when you would come, however."

I wanted to glare at him. Okay, so I have the habit of falling into the deep end before admitting that I need help. It wasn't nice of him to rub that fact in. "What happens now?"

"I think it will be too dangerous to leave you at Malfoy Manor. Circumstances being what they are, you cannot live with your godfather either. Severus's position as a spy will not allow it."

Sad, but true. "Then where?"

"For the rest of the summer, you shall stay with me." He tilted his head to look over his half-moon glasses at me. "We shall be very busy in training you. Neither side will fully accept you for the near future, and you must be able to defend yourself."

Unfortunately true as well. I nodded once in acceptance. I could think of worse things than learning from a wizard as great as Dumbledore. 

"For now, let us have lunch and we shall discuss the particulars."

~*~

For nearly a month I lived in peace with the old man. I woke up early, trained with him, learned more than I had in the past two years of schooling combined, and met with various Order members. Seeing their expressions of shock when being introduced to me was highly entertaining. 

Tonks was the first person that really accepted me. My cousin was actually relieved, I think, to know that there was at least one Malfoy that wasn't power crazy. Moody never accepted me, but stopped questioning my presence in front of Dumbledore. I couldn't figure out Arthur Weasley. He was very questioning the first time Dumbledore presented me at an Order meeting, but was pleasantly blank after that. 

Remus Lupin had a hard time swallowing that I was there, but Severus was happy to see me. He actually grinned at me, and I allowed myself to bask in his approval for a moment before focusing on everyone else. 

The first Order meeting was something of a minor disaster. No one, except Severus and Dumbledore, could really believe that I switched sides. I spent most of the time arguing with them. They all should be bloody grateful that I am not a Death Eater, because I would have been hexing them all otherwise. 

The next Order meeting, two weeks later, didn't go much smoother. I had hoped they would be somewhat used to me now, but it didn't look like that would happen anytime soon.

After they were all gone, I sank into my favorite chair near the fireplace, gloomily staring at the flames. Dumbledore settled himself in the chair opposite of mine, looking rather tired. Of course, he'd been arguing as much as me. 

Unable to help myself I blurted out, "Are they always that bad?"

"In a true emergency, they are a very cohesive unit." Dumbledore sighed ruefully. "Otherwise, yes I'm afraid that this was something of a normal meeting."

"It'd probably have gone smoother with Boy Wonder here." I winced at my own bitterness, but it was the truth. Potter could get by with murder, I think, and no one would say much to him. 

"A mistaken assumption," Dumbledore disagreed. "Harry has just as many arguments with them. For that matter, he has just as many arguments with me."

My head whipped around and I stared at the old man incredulously. They actually argued with each other? I thought Potter could do no wrong, especially with Dumbledore. For that matter, I didn't think Potter would ever dare go against his mentor. 

"Does that surprise you, Draco? It shouldn't. Harry very much has a mind and will of his own, and he doesn't always agree with my approach to things. I won't say that he has a tendency to charge into a situation without thinking things through—because he does think about the repercussions. He just has very little tolerance for evil or injustice of any kind, and is quick to act when he sees cruelty in action."

That was Potter to a tee, alright. "So why would he be in conflict with you or the Order?"

"We try to shelter him as much as possible." Dumbledore sighed again, head shaking slightly from side to side. "He hates being kept in the dark."

"But you have to keep him ignorant, otherwise he'll just jump into whatever situation is brewing," I drawled.

"Precisely. I do not doubt his ability to accomplish whatever he has set his mind to. Never once has Harry failed to do something when he has taken on the responsibility. However, he has little regard for his personal safety and we would all like to see him survive into adulthood." 

No regard for personal safety? Was the boy crazy? That was the first thing I considered whenever I faced something dangerous. "What do you mean he has no regard for personal safety?"

"Just that." Dumbledore was giving me this penetrating study. "I thought you held little regard for Harry, Draco."

"That was before he became my only hope of getting free of the Dark Lord," I muttered caustically. "Now it's rather important that he live until he can off the bastard." 

"Ah, I see."

"Answer the question," I insisted. "Why doesn't he care if he lives or dies?"

"I believe you would term it Gryffindor foolishness. To Harry, it is much more important that everyone else be alive and well and so his personal safety comes in second." Dumbledore sounded both proud of this and dismayed. "I do not fault his courage, but I could wish upon him more survival instincts."

Considering what I knew of Potter's history, I had to agree with the old man on this one. Anyone that would take on the Dark Lord at eleven, no matter how weakened, did not possess good survival instincts. 

"Draco, the next time that you meet an Order member, do strive to be more polite."

I blinked at the change in subject, scowling at him when the words registered. 

He gave me a pointed look. "It is hard to accept a person that is rude."

He had a point. I hated to admit it, but he had a point. With a sigh I nodded. "This goes back to your 'good manners are always called for' thing, doesn't it?"

"Indeed it does, my boy, indeed it does. Shall we retire? I am quite fatigued."

He wasn't the only one. 

I went to bed that night sore from all of the defense/offense training I had that morning, exhausted from the Order meeting, and confused by the revelations of my school rival. Surprisingly, I had a good night's sleep.

~*~

"Sir, I'm fine, there's no need for Madam Pomfrey."

I can think of many pleasant ways to wake up. Hearing my rival's voice in the hallway wasn't one of them. 

Since it had been a long night, I'd slept in a little later than usual. I was regretting that fact now. I rolled out of bed, shrugged on a robe, but didn't bother to stop and tie it. If Harry Potter was in the house, I wanted to know about it. 

As I sprinted down the hallway I heard part of Dumbledore's reply. "…shouldn't have been hurt like this in the first place. How long has this been going on, Harry?"

By now I was at the top of the stairs and could take in everything. Harry Potter was indeed in the house, and looked like five miles of bad road. He was sitting stiffly in one of the kitchen chairs, clothes ripped and a little bloodied. There was a trunk at his feet that I assumed was his, and an empty cage that must belong to his owl. What caught my attention the most was the shiner on his face, the bloody lip, and his bruised knuckles. He looked like he'd been in a fight. 

"They haven't ganged up on me like this since middle school," Potter relied wearily. "I didn't even see it coming. I've been staying out of everyone's way this summer, so they must have just been bored and decided to beat the snot out of me for the fun of it." 

No way. The famous Harry Potter had people besides me ganging up on him? Although they'd actually managed to beat the shit out of him, I hadn't. Now this was interesting. 

A month ago, I would have found out who the blokes were and congratulated them. I couldn't do that now. I needed Potter on my side, and if I were wise I'd start building up that trust now. 

Without a word I turned around and went to the small potion's lab, retrieving a pain relieving potion and a salve for the bruises. When I came back the trunk and cage were gone, and Dumbledore had his head in the fireplace. Probably firecalling Pomfrey. 

I'd barely put a foot on the stairs when Potter realized I was there and scrambled to his feet, wand in hand. 

"Malfoy?!"

I spread both hands, showing that I didn't have a wand on me. "Easy, Potter."

He saw the vials in my hand and slowly dropped his wand. If our positions had been reversed, I wouldn't have. He stopped and really took in my appearance for the first time, and his eyes flew wide behind his glasses. "Are you staying here?" he asked incredulously. 

Since I was still in pajamas, that was an easy assumption to make. "Yes," I answered simply as I handed him both vials. "One of them is for the pain, the other is a salve for bruising."

He accepted them in a daze, staring at me like my eyebrows had just turned fluorescent pink. "Who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?"

I smirked at him. It's a shame I can't record this moment, because it was priceless. "I know you've had a rough morning, Potter, but do try and keep up. Hasn't anyone told you yet?"

"Told me what?" he demanded. "I haven't heard anything since school let out!"

Both of my eyebrows shot up. Dumbledore didn't keep his Golden Boy informed? Now that was bloody stupid. 

Dumbledore retreated from the fireplace at that moment and smiled at both of us. "Madam Pomfrey shall be here soon, Harry. Ah, Draco, I see that you've brought him a pain relieving potion. Harry, do drink that it will help."

Potter was staring at his mentor like the man was batty. "Sir, why is Malfoy here?"

"Because he's joined our side, Harry."

Potter choked. 

I couldn't resist and rubbed it in a little. "Actually, I've been on your side for over a month."

That incredulous stare switched over to me. "Why? I thought you wanted to be a Death Eater!"

"Potter, don't be ridiculous. Why would I serve a madman that kills or tortures his followers on a whim?"

"That's what I've always wondered," Potter muttered under his breath. Absently he pulled out the stopper on the vial and tossed back its contents. "You're really on our side?"

"Yes," I repeated patiently. Now that I was closer to him I saw baggy circles under his eyes and how thin he was. It didn't look like he'd been eating or sleeping properly for a while. Now why was that? "Would someone care to explain why you're here? And looking like something the cat dragged in?"

His face shut down instantly and he turned away. "It's hardly important. Sir," he looked straight at Dumbledore, "I'm not returning to the Dursley's. I thought I'd spend the rest of the summer at the Burrow."

Dumbledore was watching him sadly, maybe with a hint of guilt too. "I'm sorry, my boy. I never thought they'd do something like this."

Potter waved the apology away. "It's not your fault they're bastards. But let me stay at the Burrow."

"You're welcome to visit there of course, but I wish for you to stay here. We'll take advantage of the rest of the summer and properly drill you on offense and defense spells."

It was my turn to stare at Dumbledore like he'd gone mental. Did he honestly think that Potter and I could live in the same house for more than a day without killing each other? I needed him as an ally, but that didn't mean that I liked him! 

Potter cleared his throat slightly. "Sir, you are aware that Malfoy and I are sworn enemies?"

Couldn't have put it better myself. 

"Indeed I am, my boy. Or at least I am aware that that was the case." He gave Potter a pointed look over his glasses. "He is now your ally. You have from now until school begins to learn how to work with each other."

I snorted. "You're giving us a month and a half to get over a six year rivalry? Impossible."

Potter started laughing, actually laughing in true mirth. Dumbledore was grinning too. I looked back and forth between them, sure that I was missing something. 

"Ah but you see, Draco," Dumbledore gave me a winning smile, "Impossible is Harry's specialty." 

"Unfortunately true," Potter admitted with a wry smile. He turned back to me, and the smile faded completely. "What do you say, Malfoy? I can't promise to be friends, but I have enough enemies to worry about. I'd prefer to have you on my side."

I couldn’t believe that he was just going along with this, but that was one of the things that I hated about Potter. He had a way of winning people's loyalty without having to really do anything. Look at me. He'd been a regular thorn in my side for six years, and here I was trying to gain his trust. There was too much irony in that. 

I shouldn't be complaining much since I was getting what I wanted. With a sigh I offered my hand, wondering if this time at least he would accept it. "I can't promise friendship either Potter, but I'm not your enemy. Allies?"

He accepted the handshake, grip firm and confident. "Allies. Welcome to the right side, Malfoy."

"Thank you." He blinked at me stupidly for a moment. Hm. Maybe Dumbledore had a point about the good manners thing, if it garnered reactions like this. "Now that you know I'm on your side, will you tell me why you were playing at being some one else's punching bag?"

His eyes fell as he retreated back to his chair. "My cousin and some of his friends were feeling frisky this morning." He lifted one shoulder in a jerky shrug. "Nothing new."

Nothing new? He was used to them beating up on him? I could not believe what I was hearing and my eyes cut to Dumbledore in silent accusation. Why was the Boy That Lived living in a place that abused him on a regular basis? I'd imagined Potter in a house where he was spoiled and pampered, not something like…this. 

Pomfrey arrived by floo and bustled over. She took one look at Potter and sighed. "Mr. Potter, not again."

Again?! She'd seen him like this before?

Potter raised his head and smiled at her gingerly, because of the split lip. "Hi, Poppy. Having a good summer so far?"

"Harry, I would like for you to go at least one year where I don't have to treat you, is that too much to ask?"

"Aw, but I'd miss seeing you Poppy." He blinked at her innocently. 

Okay, it was just wrong to see anyone charming the dragon lady. 

She took out her wand and ran some diagnostic spells, muttering to herself as she went. Then she reached into her apron and pulled out some vials. I caught her wrist before she could give Potter another pain relieving potion. 

"I've already given him one," I explained when she looked at me sharply. 

She didn't quite know how to take that, but nodded anyway. "I see. Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

Releasing her wrist I stepped back. I wanted to see how much damage had been done as well, but Potter was squirming a bit and giving me uneasy glances. Dumbledore's lectures on good manners kicked in and I reluctantly withdrew and went upstairs to get dressed for the day.


	2. Chapter Two: Allies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fun part about posting old stories is that you have a complete fic!  
> (In theory. This one is done at least. Soooo many abandoned plot bunnies...let's not talk about that.)  
> Also, sorry for any grammar goofs. I'm sure there's quite a few. I don't think I had a beta reader for this fic.

Chapter Two: Allies

The enemy of my enemy is my friend.  
-Islamic proverb

When I came back downstairs, I wasn't sure what to expect. Pomfrey waiting for me in the foyer wasn't part of any far-fetched daydream I’d entertained. I stopped a foot in front of her, arching an eyebrow and waiting with indifferent coolness. Well, actually, I was curious about why she wanted to talk to me, but my face didn’t say that. 

Pomfrey acted as if she didn’t notice my arrogance. "Mr. Malfoy, normally I wouldn't tell you this, but I wish to impress on you the seriousness of the situation." 

I nodded once, showing that she had my attention. And she truly did, because I had a feeling that she was going to tell me about Potter. 

"Mr. Potter is not to be antagonized, do you understand? He is exhausted and underweight and needs rest. The bruising on his ribs and abdomen are severe enough that they won't be healed for at least two days. I expect you to behave or at the very least give him some distance to properly heal."

Damn, what was going on? The Golden Boy was in this bad of shape a month after school let out? And I had a feeling the woman wasn't telling me everything, just enough to get me to agree. I took in a deep breath and met her eyes squarely. "Madam Pomfrey, Harry Potter is now my ally. I may not like him, but I won't fight with him either. Rest assured that he will have the rest and peace he needs."

She blinked at me in surprise, then nodded firmly. "I shall hold you to that, Mr. Malfoy. Keep him supplied with pain relieving potions. He has a nasty habit of 'forgetting' to ask for more."

The more I heard from people, the more convinced I am that Potter was self-destructive, from neglect if nothing else. He needs a bloody keeper. "I shall."

With an approving nod she walked away and flooed back to wherever she'd come from. I couldn't believe the dragon lady had actually given me orders to look after her patient. And I thought my life was surreal before. 

Speaking of Wonder Boy, where had he been put? 

There was a mirror next to the front door, and I don't know what spells are on it, but I'd love to have a smaller version. You can ask the mirror the location of anything, and if it's in the house, it'll show you where it is. You won't believe how much time I've saved looking for things by using that mirror. 

I walked up to it and said clearly, "Harry Potter."

A soft fog stole over the mirror then cleared, showing Potter lying on a bed, fast asleep. Pomfrey had probably knocked him out with some dreamless sleep. I recognized enough of the room to realize he was in the guest bedroom next to mine. 

Shaking my head, I waved the mirror back to normal and went for breakfast. I'd deal with Potter when he woke up. 

~*~

I couldn't figure out if it was the dreamless sleep potion, or if it was just Potter, but when he walked down later that afternoon he was like a badly animated zombie. His eyes were only halfway open, he wasn't at all coordinated, and he didn't seem to care that he was only in jeans. 

I was at the kitchen table with books all around me, trying to research some obscure point that Dumbledore had hit me with that morning. When I heard the shuffling I glanced up…and froze. 

I've been fighting with this bloke for six years, and never once had I seen him like this. Sure, he was a little on the scrawny side and his hair was mussed and the glasses didn't do anything for his face, but…damn he was hot. 

There is no justice in this universe. Why did my rival have to be this good looking? It's hard enough to deal with him without some sexual awareness tripping me up. Grr. 

"Good afternoon, Potter," I greeted dryly. I just barely managed to keep most of the sarcasm out of my voice. "Feeling better after your nap?"

He stopped and blearily looked at me. It took a couple of seconds for him to answer. "Oh that's right. You're here."

I'm beginning to think dreamless sleep has nothing to do with it, he's just not a person that wakes up quickly. "Indeed. How observant of you." I gestured casually towards the stove. "There's soup if you want some."

He gave me an odd look but nodded. "Thanks."

If there was anything that I had learned in the past month, it was when to keep my mouth shut. This was one of those times. I went back to studying, and Potter rummaged around in the kitchen. I was a little surprised when he chose to sit across from me to eat, but didn't say anything to him. If he felt comfortable enough to sit close, I wasn't complaining. 

Several moments passed before he asked, "Malfoy, why are you here?"

I paused, looking up at him. I really didn't want to answer that question. However, I wanted to know more about him and knew that the only way of getting answers out of him was to answer some myself. A double edged sword. "I'll answer your questions, Potter, but you have to answer mine."

He was briefly nonplussed by this, but nodded. "Fine. Why are you here?"

"Because a month ago Voldemort called me and gave me the task of killing your mentor." I smiled humorlessly when he stiffened in alarm. "It was then that I realized my life had no value, and that I didn't care to murder someone in cold blood. I went to Dumbledore for sanctuary. This house," I admitted with a sigh, "is the safest place for me to be at the moment."

"He really set you the task of killing Dumbledore?" he questioned incredulously.

"Yes. My turn. What kind of household have you been living in that means you're abused on a regular basis?"

He smiled bitterly into his soup. "What, didn't expect the Chosen One to have a crappy home life?"

"No," I admitted quietly. "Answer the question."

"My aunt and uncle hate magic. I'm a wizard. You do the math."

I knew he lived with muggles, but I hadn't known that. I wanted to press the issue, but could tell it would get me nowhere. Well, actually it would get him tense and upset with me, which was hardly conducive to my plans of getting on his good side. I bypassed the opportunity and said instead, "Your turn."

He looked up at me, expression almost grateful for not pressing it. "Do your parents know?"

"My mother does. I left a note. My father…" I shrugged. Who knew what he heard in Azkaban. "Why do you keep going back to the same place each summer if they treat you so badly?"

"No choice," Potter growled. "I have to spend a certain amount of time there if the blood protection is to work." He paused to take a drink then looked me dead in the eye. "Why are you actually being civil to me?"

Good question. I wish I had a good answer. Normally I'd talk my way around this, but we were being completely honest with each other. If I wanted him as an ally, I had to keep being honest. This completely went against my Slytherin nature, but that's what happens when you deal with bloody Gryffindors. "Potter, it’s bad protocol to be rude to your allies."

"Is that it?"

"You only get one question at a time," I smirked. 

"Fine," he sighed. There was a faint smile on his face though, so I knew he wasn't too upset. "What's your question?"

"How can you just trust me?" I bit my lip, angry that the words had escaped. That hadn't been the question I meant to ask at all. 

His eyebrows shot up. "Dumbledore said you could be trusted."

"That's it?!" I demanded in rampant disbelief. 

"You only get one question at a time, Malfoy."

I rolled my eyes, stifling the urge to laugh when my words were used against me. Harry Potter has a sense of humor…Merlin spare us. "Fine, what's your question?"

"Are you only being civil because we're allies?" he asked again. 

"Merlin, but you're persistent," I groaned. "No, Potter, that isn't the only reason. If I have any chance of surviving this war and having a life afterwards, then I'm going to need for you to trust me. No one's sure yet if they can trust me, except Severus and Dumbledore. If you trust me, though, other people will begin to as well. I can't be rivals with you and gain your trust at the same time." 

For a moment he just thought on that. "Malfoy, that is very Slytherin of you."

"Thank you," I replied with false sweetness. "Now, back to my question. Are you only trusting me because Dumbledore said so?"

"No. The fact that you're even here says how deeply you've committed yourself." He leaned forward, resting elbows on the table. "Malfoy, you're a self-centered little prick. There is no way that you'd ever put your life on the line without very good reason. If you're here, living with Dumbledore, it means that you are completely committed to defeating Voldemort. That, I can respect."

"Damn, Potter, you're actually observant."

He just looked at me sardonically. 

When he didn't say anything else I quirked an eyebrow at him. "All out of questions?"

"Do you really believe in that pureblood crap?"

I hadn't expected that question and almost automatically retorted that of course I did. But that would have been my father speaking. Truthfully, I'd seen wizards and witches that were from pureblood lines that were mediocre at best, and then I've seen muggle witches or wizards that were incredibly strong. Granger, for instance. "No, not really."

He actually smiled at me. "Good. It would be ironic if you did, considering that Voldemort is a half-blood."

My eyes bugged out of my head, I'm sure of it. "He's WHAT?!"

"He's a half-blood. Dumbledore didn't tell you? His birth name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. His father was Tom Riddle, a muggle."

"All of those rants on pure bloods," I whispered in a daze, "all of the lectures he's given, and the mix bloods or mudbloods he's killed…and he's not even pureblood? Unbelievable."

"It is rather hypocritical isn't it?" His smile twisted. "But then, you said it yourself, he's a madman. I don't expect for him to make sense." Very slowly he added, eyes searching my face, "I'm glad you turned away from him, Malfoy."

I leaned back in my chair, eyeing him curiously. "Why?"

"Because I wouldn't wish Voldemort on my worst enemy. No one deserves to be under his thumb."

Bloody Gryffindor. He was just too kind. 

There was the soft swish of robes, then Dumbledore appeared in the doorway. "Good afternoon, my boys. Harry, I trust you are feeling better?"

"Much better, thank you sir." Potter grinned up at his mentor. "I was just talking with Malfoy. You're right, he's truly committed to the light side."

I rolled my eyes, but bit my tongue. Every comment I could think of would only get me into trouble, it was wiser to stay silent. 

"I'm glad you see that, Harry." Dumbledore winked at me. "I am counting on your help to convince everyone else that he is trustworthy. Now, I have alerted the Weasleys and Miss Granger that you are staying here, but not to be disturbed because you will be in intense training. They will not accept Draco's presence here easily, and I do not think we can spare the time to win them over. There is much to be done, my boys. Still, you are welcome to visit them Harry during the weekends."

"Thank you sir, I shall. What shall I do first?"

"Rest for now, we'll start in the morning. And I do mean that literally, Harry, Madam Pomfrey tells me that you've been neglecting yourself again. The potions need another day to do their magic."

Potter grimaced but nodded. "Yes sir."

"Draco, have you found the answer?"

The man has been a teacher for far too long. It would be so much easier if he'd just *tell* me the answer. "No sir, but I can hazard a guess."

He grinned at me. "And what would that be?"

"Interceptum wasn't working for me because I was simply trying to block the spell, and not the magic behind it."

Dumbledore nodded genially. "Precisely so."

Technically I knew the answer, but it was going to be much harder to do this in practice. I closed all the books up and stacked them off to one side. "Will we continue practicing that today?"

"No, Harry is in no shape for a duel. We'll let it rest for a day or so. For now, I want you both to learn certain medical potions and spells. I am sure they will come in handy."

That actually sounded like a good idea. 

"Harry, get dressed and meet us in the potions lab. We'll start with the basic pain relieving potions and blood rejuvenating potions."

I sent up a prayer as I followed Dumbledore upstairs that Potter wouldn't blow up the lab. 

~*~

"Potter, how the hell have you survived in Potions?!"

Don't ask how it's possible, I have no idea, but the Boy That Lived had somehow taken the ingredients to the pain relieving potion, all of them benign and harmless, and made the cauldron explode. I had potion dripping from my face and clothes, his glasses were completely covered in it, as was most of his hair, and we're not even going to talk about how much was covering the table, walls, floor and ceiling. 

"Hermione drills me to death in all of them," Potter snapped. "Look, Malfoy, I've never claimed to understand Potions. The only thing I'm good at is DADA, which is good because otherwise I'd be dead a dozen times over. Maybe if you actually *explained* instead of berated my every mistake I'd get this!"

"Merlin this is ridiculous," I snarled to myself. Taking my wand out I cast a couple of scourgifies, cleaning the area up as well as myself.

Potter was cleaning himself as well. He stopped to look at his glasses and sighed ruefully. "I always seem to break these things. Maybe I should get contacts."

It hadn't hit me before, but without his glasses he was actually quite good looking. I mean, I noticed the body, but I hadn't noticed just how gorgeous his eyes were. If these contact things, whatever they were, stopped hiding his eyes then I hoped that he kept the glasses.

Blowing out an irritated breath I considered my options. I either tutored Potter, or I kept dealing with exploding cauldrons. The decision was not a difficult one to reach. "Alright, Potter, get over here and I'll break it down for you."

His head came up sharply and he stared at me in surprise. "Are you serious?"

"I do not want gunk in my hair," I snapped back. "Now get over here before I change my mind." 

He obeyed with alacrity, and I couldn’t fault him on paying attention. The problem was that Harry just didn't get it. He didn't understand the different properties of each ingredient, and what would happen if you mixed them. He followed directions fairly well, but if they weren't precise and he had to guess on something, then things quickly went wrong. 

I love my godfather dearly, but he hadn't managed to teach Potter anything it appeared. I went back to basics, breaking everything down to the most fundamental level and walked him through it. I'm not sure who was surprised more when the next batch came out perfectly. Potter was staring at it with growing pleasure and he actually grinned at me. "I did it."

"And nothing exploded, two minor miracles in one day." I shook my head and gestured towards the clock on the wall. My stomach was informing me that it was well past time for dinner, and the clock agreed. "Let's call it a day."

"Sure." Humming happily he started ladling everything into vials and marking them. I started putting things away and cleaning up the area. 

As he put the vials away he turned slightly. "Hey Draco?"

I was just surprised enough to hear my first name out of his mouth that I stopped dead in my tracks. "What?"

"Thanks. For being patient with me, I mean. I know I'm lousy with potions."

He was thanking me. I'm sure my jaw was hanging somewhere around China and managed to get my mouth closed before I looked like a complete idiot. My arch nemesis was sincerely thanking me—could my life get any weirder? "No problem."


	3. Chapter Three: Friends

Chapter Three: Friends

"Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned."  
\-- Buddha (563?-483? BC)

Damn Gryffindors. 

Damn *Potter*.

Damn hormones!

And damn my temper too while I was at it! 

The morning had started out so well. I'd slept in a little, had my favorite breakfast in the world (warm blueberry muffins with lots of butter) and was all set to go back upstairs for a nice hot shower when Potter wandered downstairs. 

Now you must understand I was completely shocked by seeing him like…that. We were on amicable terms now, which meant the words "arch rival" didn't immediately implant themselves on Harry's forehead when I saw him. Without that mental reminder, I was struck by just how hot he was. When you add in the baggy cotton pants in danger of falling off his hips, the mussed hair from sleep, no glasses to detract from his eyes and all of that warm soft skin, its completely understandable that my libido noticed and sent up signal flares. 

One problem: I was not about to lust after Harry bloody Potter. No way, no how. Before I did something stupid (like start drooling over him) I went on the defensive and said something rude—I don't remember what precisely. All I really remember was the stunned look on his face, as if he never expected to hear something like that from me again, and then the anger, and he said something back, and all of my hard work and progress on getting him to trust me was tossed out the nearest window. 

Dammit. 

And now here I was sitting in the garden in the backyard, thoroughly mad at myself, Potter, hormones, and the world in general, wondering just what I could do or say to get back to amiable terms with the Boy That Lived. I could hardly go up to him and say "Sorry, Potter, I didn't mean to insult you, I was just bloody shocked by seeing you half-naked and so delectably fuckable that I insulted you before I could be caught drooling." Oh yeah. That would go over reeeal well. 

"Draco?"

I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Dumbledore. Letting out a sigh I said over my shoulder, "I know, I know. It's my fault, I'm just trying to figure out what to say so that I don't come off as a complete ass. Give me a couple of minutes will you?"

"What's difficult about saying 'I’m sorry', Malfoy?"

Shit. I whipped around, mentally cursing myself for assuming that Dumbledore was alone. Harry was standing beside the old man, thankfully fully dressed now in those horrible baggy clothes he seems to favor, glasses and all. He was wearing a slight frown; still pissed then, eh? I hadn't expected any different. 

"I trust that I can leave you two alone to work this out without worrying about stray hexes flying about?" Dumbledore for some reason was looking at me steadily as he said this. I've never hexed a person in my life that didn't deserve it, but apparently he thought I might lose my temper again. 

I sneered at him. "I'm not going to muss up your Golden Boy, sir."

"Delighted to hear it, Draco. I shall be in my study if you need me. Harry, when you and Draco are through talking this out, pick up where we left off."

"Yes, sir." 

When Dumbledore walked away a very unnatural and uneasy silence descended. I decided to go with a Slytherin approach in apologizing and said curtly, "You made me think of something this morning Potter, and it wasn't pleasant which was why I was so bloody pissed. Forget I said anything."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew it wouldn't be enough. Harry closed in the remaining distance, and there was determination and curiosity brewing in his eyes. "What did I remind you of?"

I mulishly clamped my mouth shut. "That is all I'm going to say. Now, I have work to do."

For a long moment he just looked at me. Then he nodded to himself, as if coming to a conclusion. "Malfoy, I still think that I can trust you as an ally, despite you being an ass occasionally. However, I am surrounded by people that keep information from me on a regular basis and that really pisses me off. I *don't* want another ally keeping things from me."

Great, now he'd backed me into a corner. I could see his point, and I agreed with it, which made the situation worse. I had to give him a good answer, or I really was in trouble. But what to say? I deliberated on it for a split second; sod it all, I was going to have to say at least half the truth. Blowing out an irritated breath I glared at him. "Fine, you want the truth? When you came down this morning I was sharply reminded of an eleven year old boy that I wanted to be friends with—a boy that snubbed me publicly. We could have been close friends for years, Harry Potter, if you hadn't turned me down and I wouldn't be doing this careful little dance with you now trying to be allies. Forgive me if I seem a little irritated," I bit off. 

Harry looked completely gobsmacked by this revelation, which didn't improve my temper any. I gave him another glare, this one of disgust, and started to storm past him. He caught me by the arm and spun me around with a desperate, "Wait!"

I rounded on him, just controlling the urge to draw my wand and hex him. "Just drop it, Potter!"

"No," he growled. There was confusion in his eyes, but resolve as well. I hate that expression—whenever he gets that look on his face, it’s impossible to derail him from whatever he's decided to do. "Are you saying that you actually wanted to be friends? That trying to get on my good side wasn't some kind of political maneuver?"

I felt something cold and hard twist inside my chest. "Damn, Potter, but you do have a high opinion of me don't you?"

He didn't look sheepish or apologetic. "Draco, I've watched you play the part of the Slytherin prince for years, what was I supposed to think?"

The funny part about this conversation was that I really had wanted to be friends with Harry—and if I hadn't bungled it all those years ago, I could probably have had him as more than a friend now. You'll notice that I'm not laughing. "It's in the past," I managed evenly. "Forget it."

"I can't. I know what its like to be rejected, Draco, and I don't wish that feeling on anyone. If it’s still bothering you now, six years later, then I *really* can't forget it and act like nothing happened."

"So what do you propose to do?" I shot back sarcastically. "Go back in time and fix everything?"

"Nothing so complicated as that," he denied with a slight smile. "I'm offering a blank slate. Let's start over, Draco."

I simply could not believe what I was hearing, but I could tell by looking at him that he was dead serious. What is it with Gryffindors, anyway? How can any being have that much trust in their system and still survive in the world? I wanted to tell him that he was mad to be offering that to me—me of all people! I wanted to tell him he was the most sappy, sentimental idiot I had ever met. I wanted to accuse him of having no survival instincts. 

None of that came out of my mouth. I just smiled at him, like an idiot. 

With an outrageous twinkle in his eye Harry drawled, "You need to know all the right people, and I can help you there."

I literally choked. After six years, he still remembered verbatim what I had said to him?! "Potter, I've never realized it before, but you have a wickedly twisted sense of humor."

"Pot calling kettle," he retaliated with a wry smile. 

"Point," I admitted, absurdly happy and trying to hide it. "Now that we're on speaking terms again, what were we supposed to do next?"

"Dueling," Harry answered with a slight grimace. "Dumbledore said we both need work on the Interceptum spell."

Ah yes. That one. I’m almost beginning to hate that spell, its bloody difficult magic. "Right. Just promise me something, Harry."

It was Harry's turn to look surprised and ridiculously pleased. Apparently he liked it when I used his first name. "What's that?"

"At the end of the day, when we both have raging headaches from attempting this bloody spell, take a pain relieving potion without arguing alright? Otherwise Madam Pomfrey will descend on me like an avenging angel."

He had the grace to look sheepish and not argue the point. "Alright."

I led the way back into the house, silently lamenting to myself that the morning had started out so well. 

~*~

The problem was that I was an evil bastard, from a long line of evil bastards, and was used to acting accordingly. Even with a month of practicing 'good manners' as Dumbledore put it, I still had the habit of egging Harry on, which provoked him to snipe back, and then we were right back to where we started. One of us always apologized afterwards, but the transition from enemy to friend was not an easy one. 

Habit is an odorous thing. 

We were developing new habits, though. Good habits. I fell into being Harry's potion tutor by default, as I had no desire to have more cauldrons explode in my vicinity. Harry would give me a warning look whenever my tongue became just a tad too acidic, training me to be nicer. (I didn't say nice, I said nice*r*, there is a difference.) I discovered to my great pleasure that in the teasing department Harry could dish out as good as he could take it. That made life so much more enjoyable. 

After two weeks of slowly getting used to the other, I felt comfortable enough with my friend to broach a subject that was driving me batty. We were in the back garden, stretched out comfortably on the grass and enjoying the afternoon sunlight after being cooped up indoors all day. "Harry?"

The Gryffindor was stretched out on his stomach, head pillowed on his arms, eyes closed. He was stretched out like some kind of great dozing cat, sleepy and content in his patch of sunlight. "Hm."

"Why do you dress like a walking charity case?" 

"Second hand from Dudley," he muttered with a brief frown. "They're the only clothes I've got."

"I see." I really, really wish that I understood why he neglected himself so badly. But that's just how Harry was—he saw to everyone else first, himself second. I wish I could blame it on being a Gryffindor, but even most Gryffindors weren't that bad. Hadn't it occurred to him to buy his own clothes? "So if I take you shopping, you won't argue with me about it." 

That made Harry actually open his eyes and look at me. "Shopping?"

"I know for a fact that you have a nice build, Potter," I retorted evenly, "and it's driving me batty seeing you dress like a pauper. We're going shopping."

Expression torn between being amused and bemused he finally said, "I always thought it was the Malfoy upbringing, but you really are a naturally vain git aren't you?"

I sniffed at him disdainfully. "I happen to appreciate beautiful things and think enough of myself to look my best. There's nothing wrong with that. There is something wrong with the savior of the bloody wizarding world looking like he scrounges for clothes from a rag bin. Now get up, we're going shopping."

"Now?" he repeated dumbfoundedly. 

It was hard, but I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and drag him up bodily. "Yes, now." 

He propped himself up on both elbows, but that was as far as he got. "Draco, in case you've forgotten, there's a price on your head. Voldemort would love to get his hands on you. A shopping trip is not a good idea."

"We're going into Muggle London, I can assure you that no one would even think to find me there." That tactic didn't get me anywhere and I tried a different tack. "Please? I'm so sick of being in this house I feel like screaming."

Harry almost immediately caved. I could argue until I was blue in the face and never get anywhere, but just saying the word please usually got me what I wanted. I didn't use the word often, as I was afraid it might lose its potency with overuse, but I felt it necessary to do it this time. 

"If Dumbledore agrees," Harry capitulated with a sigh. 

Dumbledore did agree, but with certain conditions. We had to take the werewolf along, and we both had a portkey around our necks that we could use to get us out of trouble if necessary. 

The portkeys were a good idea—I wasn't sure about Remus Lupin. He was still one of those people that didn't quite trust me. Besides, I had hoped to have an evening out with just Harry and I wasn't entirely happy with the third wheel. 

Within an hour we had flooed to 12 Grimmauld Place. Lupin was waiting for us in the living room, slightly scruffy as usual but smiling slightly to see Harry. 

"Hello, Harry. How are you?"

Harry lit up in a smile immediately. "Wonderful, actually. How are you, Remus?"

Lupin just smiled. The smile faded slightly when he glanced at me, but he kept talking to Harry. "I went by Gringotts for you, and withdrew the sum you wanted. It's even been converted over to Muggle currency. Can I ask why the rush? And why so much money?"

Lupin might want to ignore me, but I wasn't about to let him so I answered. "We were both getting cabin fever, and I thought it best to get out."

"Besides," Harry added with roll of his eyes, "my wardrobe is driving Draco crazy. Its either buy new clothes or hear him whine about it."

"I do not whine," I retorted with an offended look. "I comment."

"Like I said, whine." Harry grinned at me briefly before heading for the front door. "Come on, we're burning daylight." 

It was a simple hop by Apparition to a deserted alley in London, and then I took over leading the way. I dragged Harry straight into one of my favorite stores; Trahearn's. No one else knew it, but after my father landed in Azkaban I had taken great delight in disobeying most of his rules. One of them had been associating with anything Muggle. Trahearn's was one of the first clothing stores I had visited, and it remained a favorite even now. I had been here so often during the past year that the shop owner and his assistants knew me by name. 

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy!" Tittles was a small man, wispy and unsubstantial—rather like a oversized fairy, actually. I genuinely liked the old man however and when he came forward to greet me I shook his hand with a true smile of pleasure on my face. "It's been too long since I saw you last, at least a whole month."

"I got caught up in studying," I answered almost truthfully. "Mr. Tittles, this is my friend Harry Potter, and Remus Lupin. We're here to shop for Harry today, as you can see he has no fashion sense whatsoever."

Tittles was one hundred percent Muggle and didn't recognize Harry's name, just shook hands with him and Lupin. He stepped back after the niceties were over and gave Harry a long look. Harry squirmed a little under the scrutiny, obviously uncomfortable. 

"Yes, we have work to do," Tittles finally muttered. "Samson!" he called to his rawboned assistant. "Get a changing room door open."

"Yes sir!"

"Now, Mr. Potter, if you'll follow me we'll get you measured and then start selecting clothes." 

Poor Harry didn’t know what hit him. Tittles kept him so busy trying things on he didn't have a chance to breathe one word in protest. I pointed out things I thought looked especially good, kicked Harry back into the changing booth when he started to protest, and just enjoyed the show. Lupin and I were for the most part on the sidelines, so it was probably inevitable that the werewolf would actually talk to me. 

Harry was in trying on yet another combination of slacks and shirt when Lupin cleared his throat slightly. "Malfoy, I've always thought you and Harry were sworn enemies."

I cast him a quick glance, not sure if that had been statement or question. "We were. Now we're not. What's your question, Lupin?"

For a long moment he didn't answer, just looked at me thoughtfully. "What changed?"

I considered ignoring him, but this was a brilliant opportunity to get another person to trust me and I simply couldn't pass it up. I sighed, as if put upon. "When I told him I was on his side, he seemed to think that would make us friends as well. He's just too persistent; I found it difficult to ignore him."

"So you just went along with it." Lupin's tone made it clear he didn't buy that for a second.

I gave him a sharp glance. "No. You might find this difficult to believe, Lupin, but I've always wanted to be his friend. He was just being a stubborn prick and kept offending me at every turn. Now he's doing his best to win me over." I shrugged, letting Lupin form his own conclusions. 

"I just find it hard to believe that he wants to be friends with you."

It took three tries before I could come up with a comment that wasn't completely scathing. "He needs at least one friend that will not pussyfoot around him."

The man had the grace to look a little sheepish. "I suppose we all have a bad habit of doing that. Well, except Hermione and Ron…" he paused and seemed to reconsider that before adding slowly, "but even they do it to some degree."

"A larger degree than you think," I grumbled to myself. "He'll drive himself into the ground because you lot can't tell him a flat out 'no'." He was all set to argue that, but I stepped in before he could get a word out. "Don't tell me differently, not when Madam Pomfrey made me his bloody keeper."

Whatever argument had been brewing in the werewolf's head died and he gaped at me. "She did what?"

"The first day Harry was at the house she stopped me and told me flat out that I was not to antagonize because he needed rest, and make sure to force pain relieving potions down his throat as he would forget to take them." I was still unnerved about that. What kind of idiot 'forgets' to take a pain reliever? That was like 'forgetting' to eat, and judging by just how skinny Harry was, he did that too! "Lupin, it is beyond ridiculous that the woman felt it necessary to put his enemy in charge of his health rather than a friend."

He looked away, a troubled frown gathering between his eyes. "I hadn't realized it was that bad."

I couldn't help but soften a little to see the man so obviously disturbed. He did care for Harry—everyone did. The problem was they were too polite to push the issue when it was necessary. I didn't have that problem. "Lupin, word of the wise; if he ever says he's fine, don't believe him."

That grabbed his attention again, and he gave me another of those minute scrutinies. This time he liked whatever he saw and smiled, a full and complete smile that lifted his eyes. "You really do care for him, don't you?"

Harry was the first true friend I ever had, why wouldn't I care? I was too Slytherin to say this out loud and gave Lupin a disgusted look instead. "No, I like taking my enemies out on shopping sprees."

Whatever Lupin might have said was lost when the door opened and Harry appeared. He was in all black this time, the clothes trim and perfectly tailored for his lean frame. My mouth went dry and it hit me all over again just how hot Harry was. He looked good in just pants and that sleepy mussed look—but damn did he clean up well! 

Even Lupin was a little startled. "Harry, I think black is definitely your color. You look quite good in that."

A pleased smile grew on Harry's face. "Really? Thanks. Everything fits okay it’s just a little too snug."

That comment snapped me out of my hormonal haze and I rolled my eyes. "Harry, they fit perfectly, you're just used to having everything two sizes too big. Now get back in there, you have more to try on."

"But these fit, wouldn't everything else like this fit?" Harry asked desperately. 

"Everything else cut similarly, yes," I admitted and was amused when he looked relieved. "But there's more here that isn't like that. Hop to it, Gryffindor."

He scrunched his nose up at me, looking peeved. "Some friend you are, Malfoy."

"Suck it up, Potter. Trying on clothes isn't going to kill you." We'd only been doing this for an hour, what was he complaining about anyway? 

~*~

By the time that we had completely outfitted Harry, it was close to nine at night. Harry looked exhausted, and Lupin was sitting down at every opportunity to rest his aching feet, but we had a complete wardrobe for Boy Wonder. I'd even managed to talk Harry into going into one of those Muggle eye places and getting a better set of glasses. It turned out to be a good thing, according to the doctor Harry's eyes had changed and his old glasses weren't the right prescription anymore. The new glasses were more square in shape and gave him a yummy intellectual look that I whole heartedly approved of. When Harry's back was turned I dumped the old round glasses into the nearest waste bin. 

Lupin dropped us off at Dumbledore's, partially because we couldn't carry all of the bags. I was amused to overhear him swear revenge for the old man making him "go with Malfoy when he's on a mission" I believe was the phrase. We'd only been shopping seven hours, where was the man's stamina? Mother and I could go a whole day shopping without need for reprieve. 

I didn't trust Harry's ability to put his clothes away properly so I went up with him and helped him remove all the tags and put everything away. He was dressed in some of his new clothes, a pair of jeans and a black polo shirt. He looked so good in them that I had a hard time keeping my eyes off of him. Maybe new clothes hadn't been such a good idea…

We were down to putting away accessories when Harry paused in front of his armoire. "Draco?"

I was a little distracted with all the shoes in front of me and only managed a "Hm?" Why do they feel it necessary to wrap shoes up in tissue paper and cardboard to this extent? 

"Why was this necessary?"

I rolled my eyes. "What, are you suffering from short-term memory loss?" Which reminds me, I need to get ahold of all of his old clothes and burn them. Just to remove temptation. Knowing Harry he just grabs the first clothes available in the morning, it was best to make sure that only good clothes were at hand. 

He turned and looked at me, and the serious set to his eyes said more than words that he'd really meant the question. "Why was this necessary?" he repeated quietly. "It really bothered you to see me dress in Dudley's old stuff, I could see that. It's why I went along with it. But why did it bother you so badly?"

I sighed and put the shoebox down. "Harry, in my world clothes very much make the man. It isn't just a way of showing up your peers; it’s a reflection of how you view yourself." His blank face said that he wasn't following so I tried to explain myself better. "You were dressing in awful cast offs, even though you had the money and means to dress better. I'm not sure why you didn't choose to do something about it. The only answer I can think of is that you don't think enough of yourself to care about how you look." I looked up into his eyes, hoping that he would refute me on that. "Why do you neglect yourself so badly?"

For several moments he was at a loss as to how to answer me. He ran one hand through his hair roughly, looking away. "I don't have a good answer for you, Draco. I've never been around anyone that cared how I looked. Its just…not something I've ever thought about."

Unfortunately my hypothesis was true. He really didn't think enough of himself to care how he looked. That troubled me deeply, but I wasn't sure what to do about it either. 

"Draco?"

I looked back up at him. "Yes?"

"Thanks."

It was my turn to look blank. "For what?"

There was a small smile playing around his mouth. "For caring enough to drag me out there."

Color me foolish but I felt absurdly happy with that sincere thanks. "You're welcome." I was too Slytherin to keep the sappy mood for long and added cheekily, "Now next time I do not want you to kick up such a fuss."

His smile morphed into a look of horror. "Next time?!"

"Harry, you're still a growing teenager," I pointed out sadistically. "You're going to outgrow all of this eventually. Other shopping trips are going to be called for." 

"Great Merlin, no! Can't I just send in my measurements or something?"

Happily I dove into the argument, determined to win. He'd cave eventually, his Gryffindor chivalry was no match for Slytherin genius.


	4. Chapter Four: Consequences

Chapter Four: Consequences

No man is justified in doing evil on the ground of expediency.   
Theodore Roosevelt (1858 - 1919), 'The Strenuous Life,' 1900

It’s a sad state of affairs when I'm *glad* to do my summer homework. Compared to Dumbledore's "training" the homework was an absolute breeze. Well, except the part where I had to tutor Harry through his Potions homework. I swear, that boy…what has he been doing the past six years in class? Hasn't *anything* sunk in yet? It's a good thing that defeating Voldemort doesn't depend on potion making ability, because if it did, the entire Wizarding World wouldn't have a prayer. Harry would lose outright. 

We'd barely finished our homework when Harry was flooing over to the Weasley's. He'd been anxious to go over there the entire day, almost fidgeting with anticipation. I was nothing but relieved when he finally disappeared.

Or so I kept telling myself. 

It was just too bloody *quiet*. The whole house was as still as a miser's wake. Dumbledore was off doing something elsewhere, leaving me home alone. I felt almost oppressed by the house without Harry there with me. 

It seemed like every five minutes I was looking at the clock, checking the time even if there was no point in that either. Dumbledore wasn't expected back for another day—Harry wouldn't come back until tomorrow morning, probably. Why should he rush back? This was the first time all summer that he'd had a chance to visit with his best friend. I wouldn't rush back in his shoes. 

If only there was only something for me to *do*. 

I glanced at the clock. 8:06. I haven't gone to bed this early in years, and I wasn't tired to start with, but if I stayed awake any longer in this house I might very well go mad. Grimly I went straight to the potions lab, snagged a vial of Sleepless Dreams, and went to bed. 

I deliberately lingered in bed the next morning, there not being any good reason to get up and moving early what with everyone gone. It was probably close to eleven before I finally made it downstairs and scrounged up something for breakfast. Dumbledore's house-elf, Abbey, didn't particularly like me. She wouldn't let me starve, but she wasn't waiting on me hand and foot either. There's been many a time when I've been tempted to hex her, and this morning especially I was extremely tempted to take my bad mood out on her. 

All through breakfast I kept shoving my food around my plate, trying to analyze why I was in such a foul temper. Dumbledore had left me home alone a few times and it hadn't bothered me. This was the first time that Harry had left me though. 

Why did I feel so betrayed?

He was just visiting his best friend, and while I couldn't really understand why anyone would want to be friends with a Weasley, I knew that Harry had missed the annoying prat. Logically, this shouldn't be disturbing me so badly but…there was nothing logical about emotions. 

I'd been left alone for a full day now, and getting angrier by the minute. Didn't Harry care that I was left alone? Hadn't it occurred to him that I was sitting here in a very quiet house, and that I might want his company back? 

I swallowed down my anger, shoved my plate full of mangled food away and stood up with a harsh scrape of tiles. I wasn't going to sit here and moon away about Potter, dammit. As far as I had fallen, I still had my pride. I was going to find something productive to do, and not think about Potter the rest of the morning, even if it killed me. 

And it just might. 

~*~

By the time three o'clock crept by, I had worked myself into quite a state. Even if Harry had suddenly shown up I wouldn't have said a word to him I was that mad. I was tempted to floo over to Severus's (it would serve Harry right to finally show up and me not be here, serve him right for *him* to be the one worrying) when something else intervened to halt me in my tracks. 

The Dark Mark started burning. 

Voldemort really was a sadistic bastard. If you didn't answer his call within the first five minutes, the pain and burning increased to another level. By the time fifteen minutes had passed I was clutching at my arm, teeth gritted against the sheer burning agony exploding in my left arm. 

Severus and I had been trying to create some kind of lotion or potion to counter the Mark's burning effects but we hadn't come up with anything workable yet. I desperately wished I could go to my godfather for help, but if the mark was burning then he was surely meeting with Voldemort at this moment and unavailable to help me. 

Once again, I was alone. Whatever problem I had, I had to deal with. Ever since my father had been locked up in Azkaban, I'd been forced to become independent. Where were my allies when I needed them? 

I sank to my knees in the study, breath hissing in and out sharply with pain, curses spilling out of my mouth. Damn Potter for not being here when I needed him…Damn Dumbledore too for the same reason…Damn my father for his lousy choices in making me a prime target for a wizard so dark that he drove himself insane…and damn myself for not having the intelligence to avoid getting the mark altogether!

The fireplace lit up abruptly. I barely noticed it, and couldn't dredge up a response other than to hope that it was somebody that could put me out of my misery. 

"Draco!"

Harry?

A pair of hands caught my shoulders, lifting me up enough to settle me on the couch a foot behind me. Despite every nerve ending in my body screaming, I almost felt better having Harry there. The intense worry and anger on his face almost felt soothing to my battered ego. 

"I felt my scar burning, I figured your mark must be burning too—” He gently wrestled my hand off the mark, wincing when he saw it was arterial red. "You're the potions expert—isn't there anything we can put on this to help?"

I just shook my head, the motion jerky. 

"And Snape is probably at the meeting, so he can't help," Harry muttered darkly to himself. The wheels were spinning madly in his head as he stared at the mark. "I don't know how to reach Dumbledore…Remus wouldn't know what to do…Poppy!"

Spinning about he slid to a stop in front of the fireplace and threw some floo powder into the fireplace. "Hospital Wing, Hogwarts!"

My burning skin was taking up most of my attention, so I really didn't hear everything said. It was something along the lines of Pomfrey not knowing of anything that would really help, but coming anyway. The next thing I really was aware of was a frowning Madam Pomfrey running a diagnostic spell on me and nearly glaring at the mark. 

"Disgraceful to cause this kind of pain," she growled. "Spitefully evil."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Harry demanded. 

"Severus would know," she replied with an unnatural calm to her voice. She only sounds like that when she's really worried, I know from experience. "I'm afraid I don't. Something with an aloe base, perhaps…"

"Won't work," I rasped. Severus had already tried practically everything, and hadn't come up with anything yet. I didn't hold out much hope of Pomfrey thinking of something he hadn't. 

"Damn," Harry swore softly. 

It was definitely a sign of Pomfrey's worry that she didn't call him on his language. "Harry, I'm going back to my office. Surely I can find something to help if I do some research."

"Call Hermione," Harry ordered curtly. "She can help on that end."

"A good idea." Without another word Pomfrey sprinted back to the floo and left in a flash of powder. 

Harry stared down at me, angrier than I had ever seen him. And considering some of the things that I'd done to him in the past, I'd seen him pretty angry. When he spoke again, his voice was nearly hoarse with repressed rage. "Draco, what happens if we can't stop the mark from burning?"

"Don't know," I admitted in a strained whisper. "Anyone who dared to defy the bastard wound up dead."

"Can this kill you?"

I'd been avoiding that question for the past half hour, for the sake of my mental health. Voldemort had added in a twist to the mark to physically hurt his followers if they didn't come to him—I would not be surprised if he'd added something that would poison them as well. It was something else that Severus and I had been researching, but we had no answer to it yet. "It's possible."

All color seemed to just drain from his face. Slowly he sank to his knees next to the couch, eyes intent on the mark. At first I thought it was my imagination, but it was almost like wind had stolen into the house, whipping around Harry at high speeds. His hair started flying back and forth around his head, clothes ruffling. To my magical sense I could see extreme power building up around him. 

My eyes went wide and I felt this urge to scoot away from this very angry wizard and start running like hell. I've never seen this much magical energy around one person in my life, and it was making me distinctly nervous. Licking dry lips, I hesitantly spoke. "Harry?" I had to get him calmed down before he accidentally brought the roof down on our heads…

He didn’t look at me, eyes still on the mark. "You've taken everyone from me, you bastard. My parents, my godfather, Cedric—you're not taking him too. Do you hear me? YOU'RE NOT TAKING HIM TOO!"

The pain from the mark redoubled and a scream of agony ripped from my throat before I could stifle it. It almost felt like Voldemort was answering Harry's challenge. Which was fine, but couldn't they leave me out of it?!

Harry suddenly grabbed my arm with both hands, clutching tightly. All of that power was channeled straight into my skin, tearing through the dark magic imbedded in my arm. I could feel the fight for dominance between two of the more powerful wizards of our age—just as a piece of advice, try to avoid doing that. It’s painful as hell. 

I was back to screaming, writhing on the couch and trying to jerk my arm out of Harry's grasp. He didn't even budge, still intent. I was about ready to start beating him on the head when I felt Voldemort's hold over me slip, just a tad. 

Bloody hell…Harry's winning?!

After that I made myself stay still, biting my lip to keep from screaming. I in no way wanted to distract Harry at that moment, not if there was a chance that he could somehow do something about that mark. 

The next ten minutes was the longest of my life. The only thing that gave me hope was that along with feeling Harry's magic driving Voldemort out, I could literally see the progress he was making. Bit by bit the mark was fading, seeming to shrink in on itself a millimeter at a time. 

I don't know how long we stayed like that, both of us staring at the mark, but finally the last bit of black faded away, leaving nothing but pale skin behind. For a moment it just didn't sink in. I was free. 

Completely free.

Slowly I raised my eyes up to his, only to find that he was just as stunned. Incredulously I demanded, "You have no idea how you just did that, do you?"

"Not a clue," he admitted. "I, ah, have a habit of doing accidental magic when I'm really angry."

I do not believe this. "Harry, when most people do accidental magic, they usually do minor things, like break some glass or something. They don't defeat dark wizards over long distance!"

He shrugged at me, smile sheepish but happy. "But it worked out okay, right?"

If Harry can do something like this by accident, then I was definitely on the right side of the war. "Yes, it did." Awkwardly I added, "Thanks."

Harry shrugged off my gratitude. "I just couldn't let him hurt my friend."

I felt ridiculously happy hearing that from him, and had a Hufflepuff impulse to hug him. Fortunately, my Slytherin side suppressed the urge before I got carried away and saved me from future embarrassment. "Speaking of friends, shouldn't you inform Pomfrey and Granger that the danger is passed?"

Judging from the look on his face, he'd completely forgotten about them. "Oh. Yeah." Scrambling up he went to the fireplace and started firecalling. 

I just stared at the unmarked skin of my right arm, feeling a silly grin grow on my face. I'm Harry Potter's friend. 

That had a very nice ring to it. 

~*~

No one believed it at first, of course. Severus especially. They all stared at my bare right arm in stunned disbelief and then started spouting questions so fast the words tripped over each other. I’d given up on trying to get a word in edgewise and just pointed at Harry, indicating that it was all his doing and I was just an innocent bystander. Harry would shrug sheepishly and say it was an accident, and then the questions would *really* begin. 

Severus pulled me off to the side while Dumbledore and Pomfrey bombarded Harry with questions, and put up a silencing charm so we could talk without being overheard. I’d expected that reaction from him and followed along without a fight. 

All of my godfather’s attention was on me, his voice quiet and eyes penetrating. “How did he do it?” 

“I really don’t know,” I admitted with a sigh. “I wish I did. I was on the couch, the mark had been burning for about a half an hour, and Harry had no idea how to help. He came in angry, and when I told him that the Mark could possibly kill me if we didn’t find a way to stop it, he just…became enraged. His magic flared up, stronger than I’ve ever seen it. I didn’t think a person could hold that kind of magical power, but it lit him up and started whipping around him at high speeds. He was staring at the mark, and saying that the Dark Lord had taken too many people from him, and he wasn’t taking me. And then…” my arm started aching at the memory. “Well, and then he grabbed my arm with both hands and started shoving all of that wild magic into my arm, driving Voldemort out. At least, that’s what it felt like. Severus, I could literally *see* the mark disappear, inch by inch, like Harry was forcing out Voldemort’s magic. It hurt like hell, it almost felt like a fight between magic in my skin, but he managed it within about ten minutes.”

“You’re telling me that he erased the mark by sheer power.” His voice was so neutral that I couldn’t tell if he believed that or not. 

“That’s what it felt like,” I acknowledged. “I certainly can’t offer any other kind of explanation. Severus, he didn’t even draw his wand! I’ve never seen anything like it.” And I sincerely hoped that I would never have to go through something similar again. I’m not a big fan of pain. 

I was distracted by Harry’s hand waving to get my attention, and walked out of the silencing charm, effectively breaking it. “What?”

“Please, please tell them that I had no idea what I was doing and don’t know how to do it again?” Harry pleaded desperately. “I’m not getting through.”

I turned toward Dumbledore and Pomfrey and obediently parroted, “He had no idea what he was doing and doesn’t know how to do it again.”

“Draco!” Harry protested in a near whine. 

“What?” 

“At least say it like you mean it!”

Gryffindors are so much fun to tease. I smirked at him for a moment, and received a dirty glare at him for my efforts. “Actually, he really didn’t have any idea of what he was doing, which shouldn’t surprise anyone in this room, since when does Harry know what he’s doing before just jumping in feet first? He was running on instinct the entire time, and I doubt very much he can do this again.” I paused and added thoughtfully, “Well, I doubt he can do it again without becoming extremely angry and protective first.”

“I could have done without the insult,” Harry groaned. Still, his smile in my direction was so thankful that I almost felt bad for teasing him before. Almost. 

“Draco is lamentably correct however,” Severus noted dryly. “Potter rarely has any idea of what he is doing he’s simply a master of improvisation. I doubt he can perform this feat again.”

It was surreal when Harry actually gave a thankful glance at Severus. Sometimes I have to wonder if I’m under some weird spell and dreaming this whole thing up. 

Dumbledore nodded slowly. “Very well. It is a shame that we cannot guarantee a repeat of this event. Harry, I think it is time for you to truly learn how to harness your full power. I do not wish to rely on ‘accidents’ to see us through this war.”

A very sound suggestion to my mind, and everyone in the room agreed. 

Harry and I might not have agreed so readily if we had envisioned just how much work would be involved for us. Hindsight is perfect, and all that rubbish.


	5. Chapter Five: Hints

Chapter Five: Hints

There is the risk you cannot afford to take, and there is the risk that you cannot afford not to take.   
-Peter F. Drucker

With a wrench I was suddenly awake in my bed, surrounded by darkness and sweaty sheets that were tangled around my body. My heart was thumping like a scared hare, I was panting harshly for breath and the worst part…I was so aroused I could barely stand it. 

And in the back of my mind, still present if slightly hazy, was the memory of a very erotic dream starring one Harry Potter, glasses and all. 

Oh damn.

For several days now I’d been fighting my attraction toward him. Hell, I’ve been doing that since day one, but it’s been getting harder to ignore as we grew to be closer friends. Harry wasn’t a person that I could just jump, use to work off a little sexual frustration, and then go back to being friends. He just didn’t bounce well. There was too much Gryffindor honor in him, or morals, or something, and I knew that when he touched a person he meant it—he really did like them, and he planned to stick with them. I understood that. I really did, which was why I was trying to treat him like a friend and ignore just how attractive he was. 

At the rate that my dreams were intensifying, I wasn’t going to be able to ignore it for much longer. I was quickly coming to the point of dying from sexual frustration, which is not an appealing way to go. 

I had two choices. Either I could just kill myself now and get it over with, or I could do something completely insane and try to convince Harry that there was nothing wrong with two guys getting off on each other. 

With a groan I fell back on the bed and flung an arm up to cover my eyes. I was the Slytherin Prince, dammit, surely I could maneuver one Gryffindor into doing what I wanted him to. 

~*~

How can anyone be this clueless? 

For the past three days I’ve been dropping subtle (and not so subtle) hints, and Harry hasn’t picked up on one of them. Doesn’t the boy have a libido?! I mean, come on! I’m sexy, irresistible, experienced—what’s not to like? 

I’ve tried everything I could think of, and nothing worked. Finally, out of sheer desperation, I went with the oldest trick in the book. 

I brought up girls. 

We were up late, as the next day was supposed to be a day of rest for us. (In other words, Dumbledore had something to take care of and we were taking advantage of his absence to laze about.) We were propped up on various pillows in front of the fireplace, munching on popcorn, drinking butterbeers, and playing a game of Exploding Snap. Or had been, now we were just drinking and staring into the flames. 

With as much casualness as I could muster I ventured, “I’ve always been curious, what’s it like to kiss Cho Chang?”

Harry gave me a bemused look. “Don’t tell me there’s at least one girl in the school you haven’t snogged.”

“She dislikes Slytherins for some reason,” I shrugged. “I hadn’t found a way to charm her out of her reluctance yet. So would it be worth the effort?”

Harry paused, and there was a war going on his face on whether he should answer me or not. I stared at him in growing amusement. “Okay, are you not saying anything because you don’t kiss and tell or because she’s really lousy at kissing?”

His mouth worked a moment more before he started blushing, and finally admitted, “Lousy at kissing.”

I do love juicy gossip. “Do tell. Was she sloppy or just uptight about it?”

“Hard to say…she wasn’t uptight or anything it’s just…the only impression I got was that it was wet.” 

“Wet,” I repeated blandly. “Well, that’s a rousing endorsement.”

“Honestly, I’ve never really seen the appeal of kissing.” Harry’s voice seemed to fade into the carpet. “Every girl I’ve ever kissed was just…I mean, there just wasn’t anything good about it.”

I could not believe my ears. Snogging was one of my favorite past times, right there below sex. And he didn’t like doing it? “Harry, if you’ve ever been kissed right, you wouldn’t be saying that. I would venture a guess as to say that none of your previous girlfriends knew what the hell they were doing.” A beat, then I deliberately added “Or…well, maybe I’m wrong.”

“Or what?” Harry was staring at me in confusion now.

I waved a hand, negating his curiosity. “Never mind, it’s just a thought.”

“Come on, Draco, what?”

He’s so easy to manipulate. I almost feel bad about it. Not bad enough to stop, of course. “Well, maybe you don’t like girls.”

His jaw dropped and eyes bugged out of his head. “H-how…I mean, where did you…I mean—”

“Like I said, it was just a thought. It took me a while before I discovered that I’m an equal opportunist when it came to sex.” I peeked at him sideways, hoping that admission would go over well. The wizarding world usually didn’t care about sexual orientation, except the ones that were raised muggle born. They did tend to have some very definite opinions, and I was hoping Harry didn’t have that prejudice. If he did, I was screwed. 

"Oh." For a long moment he considered that. When there was no immediate rebuttal I relaxed and let him think that one through a bit. "If you don't mind my asking, how did you figure it out?"

That question was pretty much a confirmation that Harry was at least bi. Not only was he honestly curious, there was this hint of evasion in his voice as if he were trying to hide some deeper motivation from me. In that moment I decided to answer him as honestly as possible. Harry did better with lots of information than guess work, after all. "I was at a party about two years ago, and dared to kiss Blaise. I was rather surprised to find that I enjoyed it. I was a little drunk at the time, so the next morning after I cured myself of my hangover, I went to Blaise and asked if he'd be interested in a little experimenting."

"You wanted to make sure it wasn't a fluke," Harry guessed. 

"Precisely. As it turns out…" a slight smirk teased the corners of my mouth. "I think I prefer guys over girls. They're much easier to get into bed, for one. And I don't have to be all sappy in bed either." 

"You're a real romantic, Draco," Harry drawled sarcastically. 

Actually, I was, when the moment was right. But most of the time when you're dealing with another guy, romance was not involved. But that was another issue. I had Harry right where I wanted him, all I had to do was close in for the kill. Setting my butterbeer aside, I rolled onto my knees so that I was facing him, settling right next to his hips. "In the essence of settling the question, do you want to snog a little?"

His eyes went so wide they seemed to consume his face. Harry made a vital mistake at this moment—he hesitated in answering me. When there was no immediate 'no' bursting from his mouth, I felt completely authorized to give him a kiss that he would never forget. 

I captured his face with one hand, keeping him still as I leaned in and pressed my mouth to his. I kept it light at first, friendly pressure that was not in the least bit threatening. By degrees I felt him relax and slowly start to respond. Aha, he does like it! Good, good.

Then I took it up a level. 

Gently I started teasing his mouth open, using the tip of my tongue to coax his lips apart so that I could steal inside and do a little exploring. It was a pleasant surprise when his tongue darted out to touch mine. He does catch on quickly. Delighted, I pressed my mouth harder to his and showed him how to really French kiss. 

Harry let out a low groan, both hands coming up to grab me around the neck so that he could drag me in closer to him. I was more than happy to do so. The response was passionate, more than I had expected from him—more than I'd had from any partner. And this from a boy who wasn't sure he liked kissing. We definitely had our answer—he liked guys. 

I was hoping that he liked me in particular.

Sadly, we had to draw back sometime so that we could breathe. With vast reluctance I retreated a few inches, just enough so that I could focus on his face. 

Harry's mouth was parted as he panted for breath, looking a little swollen and entirely kissable. His eyes were glazed with desire, hair a little mussed (I have no idea when my hand had gotten into his hair, honest.) That kiss had definitely gotten me in the mood for more. Normally I would have dove right back in, but I had a feeling that if I didn't let him think about this and give consent, I was going to seriously regret it later. 

That wonderful glazed look in Harry's eyes abruptly shattered and he went stiff with panic. Before I could react he had scrambled away from me, standing in front of the fire with both hands clutching the hair at his temples. You could almost see the weight of the entire world drop onto his shoulders, and he slumped heavily under the load.

"Damn…" he whispered harshly. "Dammit, what did I just do?"

Uh-oh. I knew the warning signs well enough; Harry always acted like this right before he spiraled into a guilt trip. I had to derail him fast. I levied myself up, and went around him until I could look him eye to eye. "You were just French kissed by a friend, you didn't *do* anything…well, except kiss me back." I smirked at him, a satisfied smirk. "My compliments to you Harry, you have a marvelously wicked tongue." 

He flushed a dark red, then went abruptly white. For the second time he turned away from me, hiding his face. 

"No!" I snapped forcefully. Catching his arm, I spun him around and forced him to look at me. "Harry. Harry, look at me. *Look at me, dammit!* That's better. Now listen to me carefully. You did not do anything wrong." When his expression didn't change I repeated it again, slowly and with more force. "You did not do anything wrong. So I played Chaser with your tonsils a little, so what? What are you flipping out about?"

His eyebrows snapped together, heralding the coming storm like a black thundercloud. "Draco, that was the best kiss I've ever had! What does that say about me? *Well?*"

I was tempted to tell him that it was the best kiss I'd ever had as well, but I wasn't sure if he would believe me. And that wasn't the right response at this moment anyway. "That you probably like blokes," I admitted calmly. "Why is this a bad thing?"

"Because it’s not *bloody normal, that’s why!*" he roared back. 

I've never seen Harry yell in my life, and it rattled be so badly I actually jerked back. How the hell had we gone from snogging pleasantly to yelling in three minutes? "Harry, this is not as bad as you're painting it. You do know that in the wizarding world we could care less about sexual orientation?" He's muggle raised, I wasn't sure if he knew that or not. 

He turned away again, but this time it was only so he could stalk back and forth in front of the fireplace. "Draco, you don't get it."

"Then explain it!" I demanded in exasperation. "I don't read minds, you have to explain so that I can understand."

For a long moment I didn't think he would answer. His faced was completely closed off, there was nothing there for me to read. In harsh tones the words started to abruptly pour out of his mouth. "Nothing about me is normal. *Nothing*. I don't have parents, don't have a decent home, hell I don't have a *home*, period. I'm the fucking Boy That Lived only because of my mother's protective shield and yet I'm famous for something I don't even really remember. I'm targeted by one of the darkest wizards in memory simply because he screwed up trying to kill me the first time. Just one thing, Draco. All I've ever wanted was to have at least one thing that made me just like everybody else." When he finally lifted his head to look at me, I wished he hadn't. There was so much pain and confusion in his eyes that I felt like someone had stuck a dagger in my heart and twisted it. "I don't want to be different in this too!"

Even with the explanation, I couldn't fully understand. As a Malfoy I had spent most of my life establishing that I was different from everyone around me. I couldn't understand why someone would want to be just like everyone else. But I knew that it mattered to Harry—I could see that clearly enough. 

I'd opened this Pandora's box, and somehow I had to convince Harry that I'd closed it quickly enough to save the hope still inside of it. I grasped both of his shoulders, trying to impart the sincerity of what I was about to say through my eyes and voice. "Harry, you are not the only bisexual or homosexual person out there. We're in the minority, that's true, but you are not alone in this. As for being targeted by Voldemort—you're not alone in that either. My name is right below yours on his black list, remember?"

He slumped a little in my hands, the anger bleeding out of him. "I'd rather you weren't on the list at all." 

"Well, I wish that neither of us were on it, but that's neither here nor there." I had to be very careful about what I said next, so that he wouldn't take it the wrong way. "Harry, I know that this is a shock to your system. I know that you're going to have to think about this for a while before you really feel that you have a handle on it. Remember what I said about me experimenting with Blaise? It took a couple of weeks before I really felt comfortable in my own skin again. But I promise you, this isn't the end of the world."

"I know." He let out a great, heavy sigh. "I know. Sorry I went mental on you."

I had the feeling that I had said more than enough at this point. I hadn't expected this turn of events, and the rest of my plans were either going to be trashed completely or reworked. "How about getting drunk? I know how to get into Dumbledore's liquor cabinet."

It was a testament to how shook Harry was that he didn't offer a murmur of protest, just dove into the bottle of scotch that I stole. Hopefully, by tomorrow morning, the liquor will help him settle into tonight's revelations as something he could get used to.

~*~

I only got into a little trouble with Dumbledore about the scotch. He was frowning at me in disapproval until I explained that Harry had a minor meltdown the night before, and in my efforts to make sure he didn't go completely mental I had gotten him drunk. After that I was largely forgiven. I was also very thankful that Dumbledore didn't press me about what the meltdown was about. The way he was looking at me, it was like he didn't have to ask because he already knew. Mental note: look for some kind of eavesdropping spell in that room. And my room. And Harry's. 

Because I felt bad about putting Harry on the spot, I left him alone for three days to work things through. For those three days I was doing a great deal of thinking myself. I couldn't help comparing how I acted that night with every other potential one night stand in my past. If they had fallen apart like that, I would have just dropped the whole issue and walked out. 

But I hadn't done that with Harry. 

No, I'd felt bad that I was the one forcing the issue; guilty, to a degree, for doing it only because I was horny and wanted him in bed; confused that my very extraordinary friend wanted nothing more than to be ordinary. Every time that I saw Harry's tense and pensive face I went through a whole rigmarole of guilt, confusion, lust, and the desire to help. 

Not my usual procedure with tricks. 

After three days of pondering all of this, I had something of an epiphany; or as Severus would put it, a paradigm shift. I didn't want just Harry's body (although that was certainly part of the equation). He was my friend, one of the truest friends I'd ever had, and if I were honest with myself there was the potential there for us to be more than friends, which broached an interesting question. 

Just how serious about this was I?

It had only been reaffirmed that Harry did not bounce well. He had so few comfort zones that when one of them was changed on him, it rattled him severely. If I pushed for anything more at this point, I'd better be there to catch him if he fell, because he wouldn't survive the fallout well otherwise. Did I really want that? Did I really want to be in a relationship with Harry Bloody Potter?

Cleft points. I hate them, I tell you. They're such bloody absolutes, and they change your life in ways you can never fully anticipate.


	6. Chapter Six: Action

Chapter Six: Action

I believe that one of life's greatest risks is never daring to risk.   
Oprah Winfrey

For three days Harry had the hardest time looking me in the eye. He'd blush, maybe stammer a little, then just avoid looking at me entirely. For three days I let him do it. 

Then I just got tired of it. 

What was he, a fourteen year old school girl with her first crush?! This was ridiculous! Now that I had finally made up my mind to go for the snitch, so to speak, Harry's hesitancy to even approach me was driving me mental. I had to get past it. 

I've never claimed to be a patient person—actually my mother used to despair of me because I couldn’t wait for things—so needless to say I was finding it difficult in the extreme to be patient with Harry. If I didn't like him as much as I did, I probably would have strangled him in sheer exasperation. 

The Slytherin Prince, however, does not strangle people in exasperation. No, no. When a Slytherin is faced with something he cannot control, he became even more clever and manipulative. 

Translation? I turned up the heat. 

Harry was a very good and noble person, a true Gryffindor, yadda yadda, but he was also a seventeen year old male with all of the hormones one finds in that species. He had recently realized that he had a thing for guys, and lo and behold here was this sexy specimen in front of him that was more than willing to play. How could he resist such an offer?

I took a page out of Harry's book and stopped wearing a top to bed, and then wandered downstairs without putting on a robe or shirt, just ate breakfast in pajama pants. The look I got that first morning was worth whatever goose bumps I acquired. (Harry apparently was naturally warmer than I am, he never looked cold wandering around half naked!) Harry had glanced up from his breakfast, froze, and his jaw slowly dropped as he took in my bare chest…and then he swallowed hard. 

I smothered a satisfied smirk and sat across from him—just so he could have a nice long look at all that bare skin he could have for the taking. (I'm sadistic, I've never claimed otherwise.) "Good morning, Harry."

"Uh-um-morning." He seemed incapable of looking away. Ah, I am irresistible, it isn't his fault. 

I answered the look on his face as if he had actually asked the question out loud. "It was rather warm last night so I just took the top off. I can see why you go shirtless in the mornings now it's much more comfortable this way isn't it?"

From that point on, Harry always had a shirt on. 

As much as I missed my morning view, I kept up my efforts. No shirts in the morning, sometimes not at night either if I felt like driving the point home a little, I stood ridiculously close to him sometimes, and offered some friendly "advice" on occasion. I think leaving my gay karma sutra book on his bed was a flash of genius. He never said anything, but he was a solid red all day the next day. I can only assume that with a blush that bad, he must have read at least part of it. 

A full week had passed since that late night revelation, and I couldn't help but reflect on it a little while I was in the shower. Harry had slipped a little in his potion making abilities—probably because he couldn't seem to focus on the potion with me around—and we'd had another cauldron explode. Scourgify is all well and good, but I like to have a hot shower after being sprayed by exploding gunk. I just feel cleaner that way. 

As I stood there scrubbing my hair, I mentally marked my progress to date. Harry was definitely sexually aware of me now, and a little shy about it. I gave it another week before I had him in bed. And once I had him there, it would be easy to keep him. Gryffindor loyalty and all that. 

My main concern at the moment was Severus. He was due to check on me at some point this weekend (he usually dropped by at least once a week to make sure that I hadn't slipped up and killed either Harry or Dumbledore in a fit of pique) and I wasn't sure what to say to him. Confess my intentions? He'd either drop dead from shock or kill me. 

Probably kill me. 

I was seriously tempted to tell him after I had Harry firmly in my grasp. Severus would try to mess it up somehow otherwise. Besides, forgiveness was easier to get than permission and all that. 

If I stayed under the water any longer, I ran the risk of being waterlogged. I rinsed out the conditioner and stepped out of the shower, automatically wrapping a towel around my waist. It was so nice having an en suite bathroom, that way I didn't have to worry about carrying in a change of clothes. 

From my bedroom there was a knock on the door. "Draco? Can I come in?"

I looked at myself in the mirror, seeing water still beading my skin, hair damp, only a towel around my waist…oh this was too beautiful of an opportunity to let slip past. From the bathroom I called back, "Come in Harry!" I didn't dare answer the door like this, he'd bolt. 

I heard the door click open and shut again, then "Where are you?"

I thwarted the anticipatory chuckle rising in my throat and smoothed my expression into one of interest before moving into the bathroom door. "Right here. Do you want something, Harry?" Yes, the innuendo was on purpose. 

Harry took one long look at me (and I do mean long, he went from head to toe, and back again) and went sunset red. He whirled and put his back to me so fast that I almost missed the intense hunger in his face, but I did catch it and that made the effort all worth while. 

"Draco!" my name was slightly strangled with outrage. "Why'd you tell me to come in if you're not even properly dressed?!"

"We're two guys," I pointed out innocently. "I'm decent enough. Did you need something?"

That did make him turn around, but this time he was angry—ready to punch me, that kind of angry. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, nearly shaking under the effort of staying in place. "Knock it off, Malfoy."

We hadn't used last names in nearly a fortnight, and the use of it hurt more than it should have. Very, very quietly I responded, "Apparently you're angry with me. Not news, you've been angry with me before—so what have I done this time?"

"Don't play innocent with me, you know exactly what you're doing!" An angry step forward before he checked himself again. "You set me up, Malfoy. You staged that whole conversation, manipulated me until you could jump me like you wanted. Of course, you weren't satisfied with one snog, you want more—and you've been upping the pressure ever since until I cave. Deny it!"

I couldn't. "Yes, I want you. Yes, I started that conversation with the hopes that you might share my inclinations. And if you think that I can be satisfied with just one taste of you, you've gone mental!" Oops. That came out with more bitterness and anger than I had planned, but hell I was frustrated with him too. Gryffindors supposedly like honesty—well, he was going to get some now even if he choked on it. 

"So what's the plan, Malfoy?" he bit off. Another angry step and the distance had dwindled until I could reach out and touch him, if I had wanted. It might as well have been miles, for all we understood each other in that moment. "You think fucking the Golden Boy is going to put you in a better position with the rest of the good guys?"

I flinched as if he had slapped me. I almost wish he had punched me instead of saying that. I'd thought we'd made progress—I thought we were close enough friends that I wouldn't risk damaging us by asking for more. 

I thought wrong. 

"What a terribly high opinion you have of me, Potter," I sneered. My tone was a little shaky, lacking the necessary force or condescension. "Thank you for clarifying what you really think, behind that perfect Golden Boy act of yours."

His anger evaporated almost as quickly as it had come, leaving him white and almost sick. "Draco—Merlin, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"Forget it. Even Slytherins like a little dose of honesty now and then." Abruptly I felt foolish and unarmed with just the towel, and turned to yank some pants and a shirt out of the wardrobe. 

"But I didn't mean it!"

I was suddenly tired of this, just bone weary of the entire conversation. After everything that has happened in my life, you'd think that I would stop wishing for the impossible. Hadn't I learned by now that it was Harry's forte and not mine? "I said forget it, Harry. Let's pretend the last week has never happened."

"Draco!" Warm hands caught my bare shoulders, tightening when I made to wrench away. I couldn't see his face, with my back to him like this, but I didn't need to in order to hear the absolute remorse and panic in his voice. "Don't do this. I'm sorry, alright? Old habits die hard, you know that. I do know you better than that. I shouldn't have said it—I certainly don't believe it." He hesitated, the reluctance heavy in his next words. "I don't really know what you want from me, though and it's putting me a little on edge. What…was the plan?"

Did I dare answer that question? 

Did I dare not to?

Somehow I dredged up the courage to answer him, even if I couldn't face him. "The plan was to get you to notice me, and hopefully stirred up enough that you'd act. As for what I want…" I couldn't bear my own cowardice any longer and turned to face him, immediately missing the warmth of his hands as they dropped. "I want you."

He actually rolled his eyes. "I know *that*, Draco—”

"No you don't," I interrupted harshly. "I want *you*. Body, heart, mind, even those annoying Gryffindor tendencies you have to save people at your own risk!"

That shut him up, but not in a good way. He froze, like a rabbit in front of a hypogriff. There was such a mix on his face—of confusion, disbelief, and something else that couldn't quite be defined. He spun around sharply, pacing a few steps away while running a rough hand through his hair. 

In the silence that followed, I felt like my courage was breaking under the weight of the tension between us. I swallowed past a dry mouth, wondering how everything had gone so wrong. There was little I could say to save everything now. "I'm sorry. That's obviously more than you wanted to hear."

"Merlin, Draco, don't apologize." He released a heavy breath, hand falling listlessly to his side. His head turned toward the open window, but I don't think he saw any of the countryside outside the house. "I think I could handle it better if you just wanted sex. That at least I could understand. But what you said…Draco, I've never had a relationship last more than a couple of weeks. You're going to be just like everyone else, disappointed when I don't live up to expectations, and then where will we be? At odds again, more than likely. I don't want that."

"This from the optimistic Gryffindor!" I derided incredulously. I didn't think anything could dissuade Harry from what he really wanted; what had happened with those previous girlfriends of his that had screwed him up like this? I quickly crossed to him, grabbing one shoulder and spinning him sharply. "Harry, if you don't want a relationship with me, that's fine. Just say so. I can handle being friends with you and nothing more. But if you're saying no because you're afraid of what might happen, then I'm going to hit you for acting like a bloody Hufflepuff!"

"I'm not acting like a coward, I'm being cautious!" he snapped back. But his eyes still said he was scared. "I don't want to lose your friendship if this doesn't work, Draco."

"I am not convinced it would fail," I retorted firmly. "Harry, I've known you six years, and almost a month as a friend, I'm well aware of all your foibles. I don't have some grand, perfect image of you built up inside of my head." Still he hesitated. Dryly I drawled, "I find this role reversal quite interesting. Aren't you supposed to be courageous and me, the Slytherin, cautious and pessimistic?"

That brought a slight smile to his face. "It is a little strange, isn't it?"

"Just a little, yes." He was thinking too hard, and I was tired of arguing the point to death. I closed the last bit of distance between us in a single step, putting my body flush against his, tilted my head slightly and kissed him. He was stiff for a bare instant before melting, opening his mouth enough to tangle his tongue with mine. The taste of him hit me, more heady and potent than any love potion. I ran my tongue along his, tussling with it, wanting to know every nuance and flavor of his mouth. He kissed back fervently, hungry and just as desperate for contact as I was. 

When I pulled back he was flushed with pleasure, and smiling at me so happily that I swear his eyes were glowing. With a soft laugh he leaned back in, mouth hungry and demanding on mine. I relaxed into him as his arms slipped around my waist and up my back, bringing me in tightly. 

This time when we drew apart for air, I smirked at him. "I take it that you've finally seen that I'm right and agree?"

He shook his head wryly, still beaming that thousand watt smile. "I'm still not sure about this, but I'm the master of improvisation and the impossible. I'll make it work."

That's my boy! 

"Besides," he added softly. "I'd regret it if I didn't take the chance."

Twining both hands in his hair, I drew his head back down to mine and breathed against his mouth, "Oh trust me, Harry…you're not going to regret it."


	7. Chapter Seven: Unveiled

Chapter Seven: Unveiled

Fear is the prison of the heart.  
Anonymous

For someone who claimed to be indifferent to snogging, Harry was acting like an absolute addict now. I couldn't seem to go an hour in the day without being kissed. Not that I'm complaining, mind you, half the time it was me catching Harry for a quick snog. You try having a boyfriend as hot as Harry Potter and let's see how well you resist the urge to touch him. 

It was entirely Harry's fault this morning that he was pinned to the kitchen wall getting a tonsillectomy. He'd wandered downstairs this morning without a shirt and with those yummy glasses of his slightly crooked on his face, hair all sleep mussed, and my (very limited) control was thrown out the nearest window. In two seconds flat I had him pinned, doing a bit of tongue chasing and letting my hands wander all over that fabulously bare skin. Harry let out a soft moan, responding enthusiastically and letting his hands wander up under the pajama top I was wearing. The lazy circles he was drawing on my skin was very, *very* nice. 

"Ahem."

Shit! I leapt like a scalded cat, spinning around so quickly I nearly stumbled into the wall. I felt Harry tense beside me, but I couldn't pay that a lot of attention just now—I was rather preoccupied staring into Dumbledore's amused face. 

Mentally I was cursing the situation in my head. We had talked about telling Dumbledore…sort of. But the old man hadn't been expected back for another day or so, we thought we had plenty of time to work out some kind of plan. 

The muggle concept of Murphy suddenly seemed very poignantly real. 

Dumbledore looked over his half-moon glasses, eyes twinkling madly. "Good morning, gentlemen. I trust that you have been well in my absence?"

I drew myself up, trying to project being calm and in control, despite being in my pajamas and being caught red-handed in a clench with my new boyfriend. "Good morning, sir. Yes, we've been quite well. We hadn't expected you back this early." The man had barely left last night, why was he here at this ungodly hour, anyway?

"I'm afraid I forgot something," Dumbledore offered mildly. "I just came to fetch it. I am glad to see that you both have gotten over your differences."

I gave Harry a quick glance to see how he was taking this. I've never seen a full body flush in my life, but damn if Harry wasn't doing it now. To his credit however, he was meeting his mentor's eyes squarely. "Yes, sir, we have. I guess that announcing that Draco and I are together is kind of redundant."

"Reassuring," Dumbledore disagreed with a growing smile. "I had hoped that this was more than teenage hormones at work. I confess that I am pleased about this. Have you told anyone else?"

"We were going to tell you first," I admitted a little sourly. "And then…well, and then it was a toss up between Lupin and Severus."

"Probably Remus," Harry added with a nervous smile, "just so we can get his help. Snape is likely to blow a gasket when he hears, so we need all the help we can get."

I stared at my boyfriend blankly. "Blow a gasket?" I repeated slowly. 

"Er…I guess that's kind of muggle expression, isn't it?" Harry thought for a second before offering, "What I meant was he's likely to have a conniption."

That I could understand. "Ah. Too true." 

"I see." Dumbledore was giving us this elaborate study, as if he were divining our true intentions. (And considering how powerful he was, I wasn't putting the possibility out of hand.) "And your friends, Harry? When did you plan to tell them?"

"Hadn't thought that far," Harry admitted. "I guess I need to work the idea past them slowly, so Ron doesn't have a heart attack and Hermione doesn't start reading me the riot act."

"Again with the muggle expressions," I complained. 

"Rant at me," Harry translated shortly. 

"And you, Draco?" Dumbledore's eyes were penetrating and unusually intense. "How do you intend to break the news to Slytherin?"

"Very, very cautiously and with many an escape route," I answered promptly. 

The old man suddenly beamed at us, happy for no particular reason that I could tell. We hadn't said anything spectacular, his reaction made no sense. "Sir?"

"You are indeed serious about each other, if you plan to be open about your relationship," he explained simply. 

Oh. The realization hit me that if this really had been about hormones, then Dumbledore's right—I never would have entertained the idea of telling anyone else, especially not my soon-to-be-irate godfather and a house full of backstabbing Slytherins. I looked at Harry, seeing the same understanding in his eyes. There was pure joy in them too as he looked back at me, for he knew then that he really was that important to me. I'd face angry godfathers and conniving Slytherins for his sake. 

I just really, really wished that I didn't have to. 

"Yes sir, we are that serious," Harry answered quietly. "May we enlist your help in breaking the news?"

"I would be pleased to aid you," Dumbledore responded. His eyes were twinkling madly again. "In fact, I insist upon it. I wouldn't miss this for the world." 

I had an inkling that Dumbledore was going to sit back and enjoy the show, watching everyone's gobsmacked expressions when the news was released. The man had a sadistic sense of humor. 

Harry's smile twisted slightly, but he still said thanks. 

"If you don't mind, sir, I think we'd like to go get dressed," I said with as much dignity as I could muster. Without giving him any time to respond I grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him upstairs. 

As soon as my bedroom door shut behind us, Harry released a huge pent up breath. "I can't believe we were just—I mean that was—argh!"

As inarticulate as that was, I was in whole hearted agreement. Getting caught by Dumbledore while snogging one's boyfriend was just Wrong. "How about we hide up here for the rest of the day?"

"Wonderful idea," he agreed fervently. "In fact, I'm all for going back to bed and trying to convince myself that this whole thing was a dream."

That sounded like a good idea too. I crawled back into bed, and scooted around so that Harry could cuddle in next to me. He pillowed his head on my shoulder, one arm casually resting along my chest, a warm and solid weight that felt really nice in my arms. 

Harry pressed a soft kiss against my jaw before relaxing once again. I smiled at the ceiling, still a little amazed that Harry bloody Potter could kiss me with such sweet affection and I would be happy about it. Some of Dumbledore's questions rose up in my mind and the smile morphed into a frown. "Harry, you do know that even if the entire Slytherin house turns on me, I'm not going to desert you right?"

That made him sit up a little, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at me. The expression on his face was bemused. "Of course I know that. I wouldn't agree to be with you if I didn't know that. Where is this coming from, Draco?"

"Just some of the things Dumbledore said," I admitted on a sigh. "I don't look forward to telling people, because most of them are likely to kill me, but I am going to do it. I just wanted to make sure you knew that too."

"I know," he assured me softly. "It’s the same with me. I don't look forward to facing the music, but I'm not turning my back on you."

After a declaration like that I was not surprised when Harry leaned down and kissed me. One hand slid up over his shoulder and into the hair at his nape as I responded. Yes, for a man that claimed he didn't care for kissing, Harry was remarkably good at it. Too good, actually, the kiss was stirring up my libido. 

We'd never gone further than kissing—partly because Harry was still coming to grips with a lot of things, and partly because I wanted to make sure that he knew I wanted him and not just a fuck buddy. Besides, he was still getting used to the idea of being a pouf. I had resolved to take things slow, maybe give him a week to adjust. 

I was mental when I made that decision. Here I was, not even twenty-four hours later, and so horny that I couldn't stand it. I wrestled with myself for a while, trying to find the resolve in me somewhere to stick to that earlier decision…aw, screw it. There's no harm in asking for more, if it makes Harry a little uncomfortable then I'll back off and wait some. 

Releasing that thick hair, I trailed my hand down his back, enjoying the shiver that earned me. Harry was so very sensitive, it was an absolute joy to touch him. When I reached his thigh, I tugged on it lightly, encouraging him to move on top of me. 

He broke the kiss, shifting until he could look at me. Very slowly he moved until he was straddling my waist, hips pressing into mine. I gasped slightly as I felt his hard on slide against mine. Yessssss. Without any conscious thought I arched into him, only wanting for him to do *that* again. 

There was a smile in his eyes, and a smug masculine grin on his face. Still watching me avidly he deliberately rocked into me, sparking off all sorts of nice bursts of pleasure. I shifted my legs apart, letting Harry press into me in all sorts of interesting ways. Damn, he learns fast, that was *precisely* the right angle…ugh…oh yes. 

A hot, demanding mouth caught mine again. I kissed him with ferocious hunger, both hands scrambling on his back to find better purchase. 

"Master Harry!"

We both froze, looking at each other in growing anger. First Dumbledore, now his house elf. This is growing old, very very old. 

Because Harry is a Gryffindor, and therefore has more forgiveness in him than an evil Slytherin like myself, he kept me pinned while he turned to deal with the house elf. "Yes?"

"Master Albus wants you downstairs immediately."

"Understood, we'll be down soon."

With a pop she disappeared again and only then did Harry growl in frustration. "I'd like to have some decent time alone with you, is that so much to ask?"

"Apparently so," I growled in matching frustration. "Let's go deal with the old coot, make sure he's gone, then we're coming straight back here and you're going to finish what you started."

"What I started?" Levering himself up he shot me a pointed look as he got off the bed. "Don't you mean what you started?"

"It is not my fault if you're too sexy to resist," I shot back primly.

"You managed to for six years," Harry pointed out archly. "Are you suggesting that your control is slipping?"

"My control is excellent, you just weren't sexy as an eleven year old." He'd been adorable, but I wasn't going to say that. I got off the bed and decided to take a second and get out of the pajamas. They were thin enough to show a certain condition, which I didn't choose to advertise to interfering old men. I shrugged out of them and into a loose pair of slacks. Just for the sake of decency I threw on a shirt as well. Harry apparently had decided I had a point and borrowed another pair of slacks from me and a shirt, but half way into doing the buttons he got sidetracked watching me. Giving him an arch look I drawled, "See something you like?"

"Oh yes." With a mischievous grin he darted in for a quick kiss before heading at high speed for the door. "Last one down has to be bottom!" he called over his shoulder. 

Cursing softly I bolted after him. "You prat! You can't hold me to that, you have a head start!"

He just laughed as he descended down the stairs at high speeds. I was sprinting as fast as I dared on the stairs, but I wasn't going to catch him and we both knew it. "Wanker! You are so dead when I catch you, Harry Potter!" 

He skidded on the tile floor in the foyer, still laughing and looking up at me with a satisfied smile on his face. Without slowing down I slid as well, right into him, trusting that he'd catch me. 

"I win!" he declared, wrapping both arms around my waist and grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

"You cheat," I retorted. "Who's supposed to be the fair Gryffindor in this relationship, because it's certainly not you!"

"You're corrupting me, I'm showing Slytherin characteristics now," he volunteered cheerfully. 

"Oh sure, blame it on me. Next I know, I'll be acting like a bloody Gryffindor."

Those green eyes were sparkling madly. "You say that like it’s a bad thing…"

"*What* is going on here?"

We both snapped around to see Severus standing in the doorway to the living room, towering over us like some kind of executioner. His eyes were narrowed to slits, and seemed especially focused on me. I have never in my life seen Severus that angry, and hoped fervently that I never saw it again. Especially directed at me. "Draco?" His tone added, 'this better not be what it looks like.'

Between one heart beat and the next Harry had moved, standing between me and Severus. No, more than that—shielding me from Severus. 

"Potter, what do you think you are doing?" Severus hissed in a very menacing tone. 

"Protecting my boyfriend from your wrath," Harry replied bluntly. "If you have questions, direct them at me, but I'm not letting you hurt Draco." 

I stared at his profile in disbelief. He really has no fear…or survival instincts for that matter. Any sane person would have bolted at this point, and they certainly wouldn't have admitted to being with me. I couldn't decide if Harry was brave or foolhardy. 

"Boyfriend," Severus repeated as if he were trying to do probability Arithmancy with that word alone. 

"Boyfriend," Harry confirmed. 

I couldn't stand there and let Harry take the brunt of this, I just couldn't. Taking a deep breath for courage I stepped up to his side. Harry's eyes never moved from my godfather's face, but his hand moved to take mine. I held onto it like a lifeline. "Severus, I…I know this is a lot to swallow."

Dumbledore shifted behind the potions master, drawing my attention to him briefly. I have no idea how long he'd stood there, but apparently it was long enough to give him a grasp on the situation. "Severus, let us come and sit down while we discuss the matter."

"Your golden boy has completely corrupted my godson, Albus, there is nothing to *discuss* except Draco's removal from this house," he sneered back. 

"Over my dead body!" I snarled in rising fury. He snapped around, a retort on his lips, but I never let him have the chance to voice it. "He's the best thing I've ever had, I've spent six years wanting him and now that I finally have him you're not taking me away from him! Not now, not ever!"

"Draco, calm down," Dumbledore ordered firmly. "No one is going anywhere. Severus, I insist that you come sit down so that we can discuss this rationally."

"Albus, I am feeling anything *but* rational at this moment. Judging from your very lack of surprise, you knew about this." He waved his hand to indicate Harry and I. 

"I was told this morning," Dumbledore agreed. I could have kissed him for not mentioning exactly *how* he was told. "Severus, I realize that you are distinctly unhappy about your godson being involved with James Potter's son."

"That is only part of the problem. Draco's enough of a target without being attached to Potter!"

I blinked, surprised to realize that Severus was actually worried about me. Harry flinched at the words, catching my attention. I looked up at him sharply, startled to see pain and horror growing in his eyes. 

"Dammit," he rasped softly. "I never considered…oh damn. He's right, I am putting you in danger."

Oh *hell*. If there was one thing Harry couldn't handle, it was seeing the people he cared about in danger. Especially when he thought it was his fault, and it inevitably became his fault somehow. I'd learned quickly not to bring up Sirius for that very reason. "Don't you dare, Harry! Don't even think about pushing me away to protect me."

"Draco," he started miserably. 

"No," I said firmly. "I am already on Voldemort's hit list, pushing me away is not going to keep me safe."

"Staying away from me would certainly make you safer," he argued quietly, still miserable. 

I shot my godfather a glare full of loathing. "I could kill you for putting that idea into his head."

"It's the truth, Draco." Severus was not in the least bit apologetic.

"It doesn't matter and you know it!" I shot back venomously. "I am already a target. I've lived in fear the past year, Severus, and I refuse to do it anymore! Is being with Harry dangerous? Yes, considering that he has a raving lunatic bent on killing him. But so is being a muggle, or a half-blood, or Death Eater turned traitor." Turning back to Harry I grabbed his face with both hands, snaring his eyes with mine to drive the point home. "I am not leaving you."

His eyes closed for a moment in pain. "Draco, if something happened to you…"

"It’s risky," I admitted evenly. "Loving people involves risk, Harry, there's no way around that. I've seen the bastard face to face, I know *exactly* what I'm letting myself in for. I still choose you." 

He swallowed hard, nearly shaking under my hands. "If I fail…"

"You won't. We have too much to lose to do anything but win. Harry," my voice gentled, "what's the point of it all if you're not terrified to fail?"

He jerked me against him, holding me so tightly it was hard to breathe. I didn't care, I held him just as fiercely. 

"Harry," Dumbledore called gently. 

Very reluctantly Harry lifted his face enough to look at his mentor, but his arms didn't relinquish their hold on me. 

"Draco is correct, you cannot distance yourself from everyone. You cannot live your life in fear. It would be giving Voldemort a victory by doing so, do you see?"

He sighed, but nodded. "Yes. I could wish it were otherwise…but yes. Besides," his mouth quirked into something that resembled a smile, "Draco wouldn't let me get by with it, would you?"

"Hardly," I sniffed. Inwardly I was breathing a sigh of relief. I didn't expect for this issue to go away completely—knowing Harry it would pop up again sometime in the future—but for now the argument was won. 

Now all I had to do was deal with an over protective and caustic godfather.


	8. Chapter Eight: Unveiled II

Chapter Eight: Unveiled, II

Love, you know, seeks to make happy rather than to be happy.   
~ by Ralph Connor ~ 

Severus was not happy about it, and he left unhappy but he also agreed not to argue about our relationship anymore. Before he left however he took Harry aside and erected a silencing charm, having a private talk with my boyfriend. As soon as my godfather had left I dragged Harry back up to my bedroom before demanding, "What did he say?"

"Well, what it came down to was that if I ever hurt you he'd put a curse on me so painful that it would make crucio look like a walk in the park." His smile was bemused, but slightly happy too. "He really does love you doesn't he?"

Yes, I suppose he did. It's hard to think of Severus loving anybody with his surly attitude, but he'd always been there for me. I just shrugged. "Was that it, he was just threatening you?"

"Well, no. He's going to take over some of my training now."

The light dawned. "He's going to make sure you're ready to protect yourself because I won't be happy if you die, is that it?"

"I think so, but he didn't say that," Harry admitted. 

It was such a Severus thing to do, I was sure I was right. "Hm. Well, now that my godfather has been told, I assume that you want to inform Lupin?"

"We might as well." Harry sighed, running one hand through his hair and making it stand up even more than normal. "It wouldn't look good if we waited too long before telling Remus. But after that, we are *definitely* having some time to ourselves."

"I couldn't agree more." 

It was just as well that we did plan on telling Lupin. As soon as we went back downstairs I heard his voice in the living room. Apparently Dumbledore was wasting no time in informing our guardians of what was going on. I scowled about this briefly. Didn't Dumbledore have better things to do than mess with my love life? 

Lupin looked slightly rumpled as usual, and perturbed to be here. Still, he smiled when he saw Harry and hugged him. "Hello, Harry."

"Hi, Remus." Harry was beaming, nearly bouncing in excitement. Apparently he thought Lupin would be a piece of cake compared to Severus. He was probably right. For one thing, I wasn't worried about Lupin throwing dark curses at us if we said something he didn't like. 

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dumbledore take a seat, hands folded under his chin and a smile of pure anticipation on his face. Brat. The man is an absolute brat. 

"I confess that I'm confused on why I'm here," Lupin was saying. "Albus said it was important, and that I needed to talk to you. Is something wrong, Harry?"

"No," Harry answered softly, elation clear in his voice. "Finally, something is *right*."

"You'd better sit down," I warned Lupin. 

He was still confused, and wary, but after a long look at me he turned and sank into the nearest chair. 

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, mouth working for a moment. Finally he blew out a breath. "I have no idea how to say this."

"Allow me to do the honors," I offered gleefully. I do so enjoy tormenting Gryffindors. Slipping an arm around Harry's waist, I rested my chin on his shoulder, delighting in the shock rampant on Lupin's face. "Harry belongs to me."

It was a good thing that Lupin had sat down first, as it was he nearly fell out of the chair. 

"We got together last night," Harry confirmed. Worry evident in his voice he added, "Remus, I know this is a bit of a shock, are you alright?"

"I don't know," he answered in a thin voice. "This is coming out of the blue, and…I just don't know. I have so many questions but I don't even know where to begin."

Harry turned his head, the question clear in his eyes if I would give him some time alone with Lupin. If he felt it necessary to hash everything out with the man, that was fine by me. I leaned in and kissed him gently before retreating. "I'll be in the potion's lab if you need me."

"Okay." His eyes said thank you. 

As I turned away I caught Dumbledore's eye and motioned for him to follow me. While Harry was busy with Lupin, I think I should have a talk with Dumbledore and the amazing coincidence of having godfathers and honorary godfathers suddenly popping in for a visit on the same day. 

~*~

We decided it could wait before we told the Order. I didn't think my private life was everybody's business anyway, they could find out when the rest of the school did. What surprised me was Lupin's reaction before he left. He pulled me aside, just like Severus had done with Harry, his eyes intent and focused on me. I met his look squarely, not letting any of my insecurities show. 

"I'm not going to threaten you about hurting him," Lupin finally stated quietly. "I don't think you'll ever purposefully hurt each other again. I can see how devoted you are to one another. But Draco, I hope you know what you are doing. He's lost too much to be able to handle matters well if you break up with him."

"Harry doesn't bounce well," I agreed softly. "I know that, Lupin. I thought about everything long and hard before I made my decision."

"Good." Smiling, but obviously still bewildered, he shook his head. "If you two could overcome a six year rivalry and become a couple, I guess anything is possible. I've already told Harry this, but if anything does go wrong, or if you need help then don't hesitate to ask me alright?"

"We will." 

Still bemused, but happy that Harry at least was happy with the way things had turned out, he flooed home. I immediately went hunting for my boyfriend. He and I had a date with a mattress, clothing optional. 

I found Harry in the back garden, apparently enjoying the outdoors and waiting for me to finish talking with Lupin. He looked up with a smile as he saw me. "So did you get threatened too?"

"He didn't think it necessary," I denied pleasantly. Mentally I was trying to plan the quickest way to get up to a bedroom—either his or mine, I didn't frankly care. "I'm not fooled into thinking I'd get off lightly if I did hurt you, though. More importantly—” I leaned in close to him, nibbling on his jaw. I absolutely love the taste of his skin. "We need to be upstairs on a bed."

"Brilliant idea," he approved huskily. 

~*~

When I recovered (by my best estimation it was roughly five hours or so later) I was laying in Harry’s arms sideways on the bed, clothes done up again. “You are too good at that,” I told him seriously. "I know it's not from experience, so you must be a natural."

"You're the one that left the book on my bed," he pointed out dryly.

The book would have helped, I admit, but I was still going with natural talent here. A memory finally caught up with my oxygen deprived brain and clubbed me over the head. Without thinking I blurted out, "Did you call me sweetheart?"

Harry froze, out of embarrassment or nervousness I couldn't tell. "Um…maybe…"

I was so flummoxed I couldn't begin to respond. I've never had someone call me an endearment before…well, except Pansy calls me 'dear' but she does that only to stake a claim on me. It made me happy when Harry called me that, though, because he wasn't using it to stake a claim—it was just what he felt about me. "I like it," I assured him softly. "I like that you think of me like that."

"It’s kind of a girly endearment though," he admitted, still blushing. "Sorry. I’m still not used to this, being with a bloke thing."

"Hm." I didn't want him to drop using endearments altogether, but I rather saw his point as well. "Well, what if we made up one?"

He thought about that for a moment. "My mind is a blank. Any ideas?"

"Hm…" I snuggled in further. "Well, you're warm and cozy, but those aren't good endearments."

"Hm, true." 

A comfortable silence descended. I went back to enjoying being cuddled. Harry was so marvelously warm and comfortable, we really should do this more often. 

"Dragon."

What do two-ton, fire breathing animals have anything to do with…well, anything? "What about them?"

"I'm going to call you dragon." 

For a second I thought he was teasing, but the contemplative light in his eyes said otherwise. "Harry, that's ridiculous, I'm not letting you call me that."

"It's already your name, or a form of it, and it’s suitably masculine so I'm going to call you dragon," he said completely reasonably. 

On the tip of my tongue was a protest that there surely must be more appropriate nicknames—but I couldn't think of any. Dear, honey, cupcake, sweetie…all things I'd been called in the past (by Pansy, ugh) and not something I wanted Harry to call me. Aw hell, if he liked dragon I could probably get used to it. "You're sappy and romantic," I informed him in resignation. 

"Yup, comes with being a chivalrous Gryffindor." Grinning he rolled us so that he was settled comfortably on top of me. "I'll try to make it more Slytherin for you, how's that? It can be our key word, and you know that every time I say it that I want you."

That actually did make me feel better about it. "Well, that's your nickname for me—I need to think of something for you."

"Any ideas?"

"None," I admitted. "And it's hard to think at all when you're lying on me like that."

A slow smirk took over his face. "You say that like it’s a bad thing, dragon."

The word was still sappily sentimental, but I liked the husky tone it was delivered in. I rolled us again so that I was on top and leaned into him, nibbling along his neck. A sweet sigh slipped from his throat and he arched his hips into mine, making it obvious just how much he liked what I was doing. 

I'll think of nicknames and all that later, pleasing Harry was my priority at the moment.


	9. Chapter Nine: Hogwarts

Chapter Nine: Hogwarts

Love asks me no questions,   
And gives me endless support...   
~ by William Shakespeare ~ 

I stared at my school trunk, packed and ready to go. There was fifteen minutes before we had to leave for the station, in order to be on board for the Hogwarts Express. 

I didn't want to go.

The past two months had been a rollercoaster ride of ups and downs, but I'd never been happier in my life. I was finally fighting for something that I believed in, allied with people that I could respect (even if I couldn't get along with most of them) and with a boyfriend that was so good and loving I was almost convinced it was a hallucination. Even when I argued with Harry I still knew he cared for me—that assurance had not been there when I argued with my parents in the past. 

We'd been happy here, and I knew that things would be harder for us when we went back to Hogwarts. No one was going to easily accept our relationship, and I couldn't help but wonder if we'd be able to survive the pressure. The thought of losing Harry shook me. 

There was a soft knock on the door before Harry's head appeared. "Hey. Ready to go?"

I wanted to say no and beg to stay, but that was childish. I forced a smile. "All packed, I just need to take the trunk downstairs."

Without a word he came to me, gathering me up into a tight hug. I buried my face in the crook of his neck and just held on. We wouldn't be able to openly touch like this, not until we'd gotten people used to the idea that a Malfoy and a Potter could actually get along without foul play being involved. It could take weeks before I could openly claim him, and that was something else I didn't like at all. 

"We can do this, dragon," he whispered into my hair. "We can do this."

"I know." I just didn't want to. I kissed him softly, wishing I had his courage. "Let's go, the sooner we can start our campaign, the sooner I can ravish you in public."

His smile didn't quite reach his eyes, and I could see how unhappy he was at that moment too. Still, his voice was light when he replied. "I didn't know you were an exhibitionist."

"Within reason, I am." Grinning at him cheekily I stepped free from his arms, cast a levitating spell on my trunk, then started downstairs. 

Dumbledore was waiting for us in the foyer, projecting this air of ancient wisdom like he usually did. "Ready, my boys?"

"Ready," Harry answered. 

"I trust that you have already worked out times and places that you might rendezvous?"

Randyvous was a better word for it. I simply nodded, not trusting my mouth at the moment. 

"Excellent. Off with you, then. I shall see you at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore's house elf was taking our trunks to Hogwarts, so I only had to worry about Apparating Harry to Platform 9 and 3/4s. My heroic Gryffindor boyfriend was very nervous about Apparating, something I couldn’t seem to get him past. But then, we hadn't had a lot of time to practice it either. 

Harry and I kissed each other one last time, a long sweet kiss that held volumes of unspoken promises into it, then I Apparated us onto the train platform. 

~*~

Being back at school wasn't difficult, it was a bloody nightmare. 

And we weren't even at school yet!

The train ride wasn’t so bad. Harry had been dragged off to one end by his friends, I to the other. While waiting for the compartment to show up, I'd managed to convince Crabbe and Goyle that being a Death Eater was a Bad Idea, I was working for the light side, and they were no longer allowed to beat up on the Gryffindors. Unless they really asked for it, of course. 

The news actually went over surprisingly well. My two henchmen were very loyal, after all, and knew to obey my orders. But I hadn't known until this moment that they were reluctant to join Voldemort. They were natural bullies, but actually torturing people to death made them squeamish. 

The harder part was the other three. I could care less what Millicent thought, but Pansy and Blaise were another matter. Pansy because when she figured out I'd overthrown her for Harry bloody Potter, she'd start shrieking like a wounded banshee. Blaise because I had no idea where his true allegiances lay, and well…he was sort of a friend, and I didn't want to ever have to face him on the wrong side of a battle field. 

I'd talked to Crabbe and Goyle on purpose while waiting for the others to show up, as I had a good suspicion that they would just go along with what I wanted. They were also warned that things might not go so well when I started to break the news to the other three, and that a little of their help wouldn't be remiss at that point. So they were sitting on either side of me when Pansy and Blaise waltzed into the compartment. 

"Draco! Dear!"

I winced at the excited squeal. You know, compared to Pansy's endearments, Harry's 'dragon' was really perfectly acceptable. It was all a matter of perspective. "Pansy," I nodded coolly. "Have a wonderful summer?"

"Oh yes, perfectly marvelous. We went to France, and then a little time in Spain. I have some excellent photographs, I'll show you later." 

Not if I have anything to say about it. As she settled into a seat I turned to Blaise. "And what about you?"

"I've had better summers," he answered dryly as he sat across from me. "What about you, Draco?"

My stomach was roiling in nerves, but I didn't let any of that touch my face. Let the show begin. "I went to a few Death Eater meetings, actually."

Sheer silence dropped into the compartment, cold and lifeless. A graveyard at midnight was more lively. I waited, studying everyone's reactions. Pansy looked torn between being excited and frightened. Blaise just looked nervous, and a little green around the gills. 

Blaise licked dry lips before venturing "Were you…marked?"

I nodded once.

"Oh. The Dark Lord…what's he like?"

"An absolute raving lunatic," I answered promptly, "who has no regard for anyone's life but his own."

If I thought the silence before was bad, this put it to shame. Pansy was vaguely affronted. Apparently my description was going against everything she was taught. Blaise however was thoughtful, and I think he believed me. 

"I'd be perfectly willing to put my memories of those meetings into a pensieve so you can see for yourself," I offered quietly. "After what I went through this summer, I don't want anyone else joining Voldemort. I especially don't want my friends going to him."

"Serving the Dark Lord is an honor!" Pansy snapped loudly. 

"For the love of Merlin, Pansy, grow a brain," I snapped back. "Think about this. Do you honestly think that if my father had been serving the Light side, that they'd leave him in Azkaban? No, of course not. As foolish as the Gryffindors are, at least they're loyal to their own! And they don't assign us impossible tasks just for the entertainment value of watching us fail miserably!"

"He…he ordered you to do something?" she questioned uncertainly.

"Yes." 

"What?"

"To kill Dumbledore." 

Blaise hissed in a sharp breath. 

Very deliberately I rephrased it. "He ordered me, a teenager who hasn't developed his full potential yet, to go and kill one of the greatest wizards of our age. He ordered me to kill someone that even *he* can't kill and told me that I wasn't going to receive any outside support while trying. Does that sound sane to you? Rational? If nothing else it’s a misuse of resources." That last point was almost a cardinal sin to Slytherins. A true Slytherin never squandered their resources.

Pansy was too well trained to agree with me out loud, but she was obviously thinking that I had a point. Blaise was nodding, watching me carefully. "You're right," he acknowledged quietly. "That was a stupid thing to order…if you were ordered to do it. Or is this some elaborate test, Draco?"

"No game," I denied quietly. "Ask Dumbledore himself if you don't believe me. I defected two months ago, and I lived with him over the summer." 

"Draco, you didn't!" Pansy jumped up, hands clamped over her mouth, staring at me in horror. "Your parents—”

"My parent's lousy decision is what put me into this position," I denied swiftly. "They can lie in the bed they made, but I certainly won't. A Slytherin may be ambitious, but we're also excellent at keeping our hides intact. You can't do that and serve Voldemort at the same time." I really didn't hold out much hope for Pansy, she was never very good at thinking for herself. But Blaise…I had a chance with Blaise. "I'll let you watch it for yourself in a pensieve," I told him earnestly. "Or ask Dumbledore, whatever it takes to convince you I'm telling the truth. But don't take the mark, Blaise. Don't join him. I'd rather not have to fight my friends or watch them be killed." 

His eyes were searching for something, and whatever it was, he seemed to find it for a moment later he nodded slowly. "I'd like to watch that particular meeting, Draco."

"As soon as we get to school," I promised. Inside I was already celebrating. I had him, he just didn't know it yet. 

~*~

The beginning of the school year is always the same. Getting unpacked and settled into the dorms, the welcoming feast, the usual chaos of settling into the new class schedules and of course the welcome back parties that each House seemed to throw. Despite all the activity I was missing Harry fiercely and was counting down the minutes until I could sneak up to the room of Requirement and spend time with him. 

I did manage to find enough time to bring Blaise up to Dumbledore's office and show him my memories of the Death Eater meetings I was at. I only showed him two before he was convinced. He looked sick at what he had witnessed, and thanked me profusely afterwards for being honest enough with him to show him what he was getting himself into. He wasn't ready to swear undying devotion to the Light—he was too cautious for that—but he was swearing up and down that he wasn't about to join Voldemort, not after what he'd just seen. That was good enough for me. 

Now I had to convince the rest of my House. 

Three days into school year and I was ready to tear my hair out in frustration. I'd seen Harry in class…and that was it. We just didn't have time to see each other elsewhere, not and avoid suspicion. People were having a hard enough time accepting that we weren't arch enemies anymore. The first time we had Potions I partnered with him and everyone in the room nearly fainted with shock. Well, except for Weasley, he nearly had an epileptic fit. Unfortunately, he recovered thanks to Granger's influence. 

Severus did his usual 'notes are on the board, try to refrain from making stupid mistakes' comment then turned us loose. Harry went to get all of the ingredients and while we were grinding and chopping, we managed to hold an undertone conversation. 

"I have really, really missed you," he whispered to me with a pained expression. "I hadn't realized how hard this would be."

I hadn't either, and I'd been preparing for the worst. "I know, me too. Are you making any progress so far?"

"Um…some. Hermione believes it's *possible* you've seen the light, so to speak. Ron is sure you're fooling everybody. It'd help if you gave them a civil word after class."

Behaving civilly to them was not something to look forward to, but if it would end this charade faster I'd walk circles around Hogwarts on my hands. "Consider it done. And the rest of your House?"

"Well, some are with Hermione, and some are with Ron." He shrugged, looking rather tired and frustrated. Scooting a bit closer he dropped his voice even more. "I was wondering, would you mind if I showed them some of my memories of you in a pensieve? I think it'd help strengthen my case." 

"Depends on what memories," I drawled archly. 

"What?" he blinked at me blankly before it dawned on him, then he swatted my arm. "You prat, I didn't mean *those* memories." 

"Just clarifying," I smirked. I didn't for a minute believe he'd show *those* memories as he put it, but I do love teasing Harry. He's adorable when he blushes. 

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, I do hope that you are actually paying attention to what you are brewing." Severus was giving us a rather pointed look. 

"We certainly are, sir," I assured him genially. Silently I dared him to start picking on Harry. I hadn't been able to talk to my boyfriend in nearly four days, and even now I wasn't able to be affectionate like I wanted to, and it was pissing me off royally. If Severus started in on him, I wouldn't be responsible for my actions. 

He glared, but didn't say a word. Harry breathed out a sigh of relief next to me, and for the next several minutes we focused on the potion. When we got to the stage where we had to stir for a while, I dared to start the conversation again. "I'm making some progress. Blaise Zabini is definitely not going to join Voldemort, and neither are Crabbe and Goyle."

"Well that's good." Harry looked briefly cheered by this news. "And the rest of the House?"

"Harder to pin down," I admitted. "Most of them are so trained not to think for themselves, I can't get them to believe anything I say. I'm tempted to just drag the pensieve down to the common room and just show them, but I'm not sure if that's a wise move at this point."

"Draco, you are being careful, aren't you?" Clearly worried, his hand brushed against mine, the closest contact we could have in public like this. "I don't want to have to worry about you being ambushed or anything." 

"I've got loyal bodyguards," I assured him softly. "And I don't go anywhere without them. I’m being careful, Harry."

"Good. Just…good." He still didn't like it, but he didn't argue anymore. 

I wanted to put a smile back on his face. "Still up for meeting me tonight?" 

A quick smile darted over his face. "Of course I am."

The potion started bubbling, distracting us and for the rest of the class period we didn't manage to say much to each other. Then thankfully it was over, we could escape Severus's sardonic glare and retreat to the relative safety of the hallway. 

I'd barely stepped out of the classroom when I heard Weasley hiss to Harry "—both of you whispering to each other, and I want to know what the hell is going on!"

I debated on leaving it up to Harry, but dammit, I couldn't let this go unchallenged. I stepped up right next to Harry and cocked an eyebrow at the angry redhead. "I can see what you mean about slow progress," I noted idly to my boyfriend. 

"You have no idea," Harry groaned. 

"Oh I might. If he's anything like Pansy or Nott, then I have complete sympathy for you." Now I had most of the Gryffindors still milling around staring at me incredulously. Well, it was understandable as they had never seen me play nice before. I nodded cordially to them. "Granger, Weasley. Harry tells me that you're having trouble believing that we're friends." 

"I think you're tricking him," Weasley shot back. 

"Entirely possible," I conceded. That threw him for a loop, he hadn't expected me to admit it. Calmly I continued, "How possible is it that I've tricked Dumbledore? He believes me too, you see. However, if you don't believe either your best friend or your leader, then perhaps you should look at a certain set of pensieve memories that I've left in the Headmaster's care. Among them are the Death Eater meetings I attended, and the one memory that gives a very substantial reason why I changed sides." Raising my voice I gave everyone listening in a pointed look. "In fact, you're all invited to go see it. I want it quite clear who I am allied with and why."

Weasley was still boiling, but without a clear outlet. Granger, on the other hand, was watching me closely. "What memory is it?"

"Go and see, Granger," I reiterated quietly. "I think you'll understand soon enough."

Harry put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. "Draco, are you sure?"

"I'm sure," I flashed him a smile as I said it. "I need my allies to trust me, and this is the surest way to convince them."

"News flash, Malfoy," Weasley growled, "I will *never* trust you."

"Don't say that, Weasley," I warned with sadistic cheer. 

"Why the bloody hell not?"

"Because pride is a horrible thing to swallow." Giving him a pointed look I added softly, "I should know." Turning on my heel, I gave Harry a wink before walking away and calling over my shoulder, "You lot had best hurry or we'll all be late to class." 

Behind me, I could hear Harry chuckling, and the sound was a sweet one indeed. I went to Transfigurations with a smile on my face and the hope that maybe soon we could tell everyone the whole truth.


	10. Chapter Ten: Progress

Chapter Ten: Progress

The first duty of love is to listen.   
Paul Tillich (1886 - 1965)

Three more hours before I could meet with Harry. I felt like time was just oozing past. In an effort to keep myself distracted, I was heading for the library to start in on the two essays I had assigned and some obscure potions question Severus had given me as punishment for talking to Harry in class. I foresaw a lot of those questions being assigned in the future. Not only was Potions one of the few classes I had with Harry, but it was the only way I knew of to keep the cauldron from exploding. I still didn't trust Harry with potions without a lot of supervision. 

When I entered the library I saw Granger sitting with a stack of books all around her. It wasn't an unusual occurrence, I usually saw her like that. Sometimes I think she lives in the library. She glanced up as I walked past, but her usual glare was absent this time. We'd gotten on at least civil terms in the past two weeks that we'd been at school, but the look of horrified understanding on her face was new. It stopped me in my tracks. 

Now what was going on here? I debated just leaving the matter, but I was too curious to do that. After a moment's hesitation I approached her, leaning slightly over the table so I could speak quietly. "Something wrong?"

"I just visited the Headmaster's office," she stated simply. She didn't need to say anything more, for that look made entirely too much sense now. She'd seen the memories that I had left in the pensieve, and now understood precisely where I stood and why. 

I nodded in understanding. "Any questions?"

"I'm still curious as to how you and Harry became such good friends," she admitted. 

Screw obscure potions questions, fostering a better relationship with Granger was definitely the priority at the moment. I let my bag drop to the table and took the seat facing her. "How much has he told you?"

"Not a lot," she admitted with a brief frown. "Harry's terrible about communicating sometimes. He told me that you helped tutor him through Potions this summer. He told me that you're the reason why he has a new wardrobe. I really must thank you for that. I've been trying to find a way to blackmail him into going shopping with me. However did you manage it?" she demanded in frustrated curiosity. 

I couldn't help but smirk at her. "I said please."

"That's it?!"

"Keep in mind, Granger, that I hardly ever say please. The word works minor miracles for me with Harry. Is that all he's said?"

"Well, no," she admitted with a cautious look at me. "He told me that he trusted you with his life. He didn't get a chance to say more because Ron went ballistic at that point. Malfoy, prove that not all boys are terrible at communicating and tell me how this happened."

My smirk twisted. That was quite an interesting way to phrase the demand. I paused for a second to think of how to begin, trying to remain as honest as possible without giving away too much. I didn't think she could handle the full truth at this moment, and she wasn't likely to believe everything from me. Harry, yes, but not me. "Do you know that the Dursley's are abusive to him?"

Her face darkened abruptly. "Yes, I know."

"The first time I saw him this summer," I quietly related, "was when he showed up at Dumbledore's house, trunk packed and looking like something the cat dragged in. Someone had used him as a punching bag. I never expected to see the bloody Boy That Lived in that condition, especially not because of his relatives."

"He didn't tell me they'd done something to him this summer," she growled. "Dammit."

I gave her a commiserating smile. "Harry has this bad habit of thinking he shouldn't…impose on other people. Weird, I know, but he thinks that as long as it only hurts him then it doesn't affect anyone else." 

"That's his thinking exactly," she grumbled with a sharp look at me. "You do know him well."

Not as well as I liked, there were still things about Harry that completely surprised me. "I've spent the last two months getting to know him, Granger. After Harry moved in and he was told that I was on his side, he seemed to think that meant we should be friends as well."

Her eyebrows arched slightly. "Just like that?"

"Well, no. We were ordered to 'try and get along'. As long as I wasn't insulting him, or his friends, Harry was just as decent. I didn't say it was easy for us to become friends, and we still have arguments hot enough to peel paint, but we do know that we can depend on each other." In more ways than one, but I couldn't say that. Yet. 

"Hm." She was studying me closely, eyes looking for something. Very deliberately she asked, "Is that why you're being civil to us as well? Because you've been ordered to try and get along?"

"As I've said before, it's stupid to be at odds with your allies." 

That made her smile. "Very true."

We were distracted from any further comments when Harry and Weasley walked through the door. Weasley took one look at us and nearly fell over in shock. I pretty much ignored him, it was the happy smile on Harry's face that captured my attention. He was literally beaming, clearly delighted to see us in an apparently amiable conversation without his intervention. I waved him closer, willing to put up with an audience if I could spend at least some time with him. 

Harry immediately made his way over to us, Weasley at his heels. The redhead was somewhere between shocked and betrayed, and giving his bushy haired friend incredulous looks. 

"Hey Draco, Hermione." Harry dropped into the chair next to mine and under the cover of the table his hand found my thigh. I really liked him touching me, and daring to do it in the open like this so I was careful to not draw attention to it. 

Weasley leaned over the table, glaring at me. "What do you think you are doing, Malfoy?"

His aggressive attitude was getting very old. "I was propositioning Hermione, what does it look like?"

He made a sound like a tea kettle going off. Granger was snickering though. Harry was doing his best to subdue a smile, but wasn't completely succeeding. 

"That isn't funny, Malfoy!"

"Your best friends think otherwise," I responded sweetly. 

"What are you even doing here?" he repeated angrily.

"I came to do some research actually, but I was waylaid with some questions." I nodded toward Granger. "Speaking of which, anything else you want to know?"

"Are you responsible for the new glasses?" she was eyeing Harry in amusement when she asked. 

I winked at her. "You're quite welcome. I managed to drag him into one of those optometrist places during the shopping trip."

"Speaking of which," Harry was eyeing me in suspicion, "what happened to my *old* glasses?"

"I made sure to permanently misplace them," I answered with a straight face. 

"I figured as much. Along with the rest of my old clothes, right?"

Smiling, I didn't say a word. 

"Prat," he muttered. His lips were twitching up into a smile, though, and that rather spoiled the irritated look he was trying to cultivate. 

"You can thank me later," I muttered back. 

"It's just wrong to see you get along," Weasley grumbled but he sounded almost resigned now. 

I managed to bite my tongue before laying into him. Harry owed me for that too. "I do wish I could stay here and continue this lovely banter," I drawled pleasantly, "but Snape has this obscure question he wants answered and I must start hunting for it." 

"I'd ask Hermione first," Harry observed with a smile at his friend. "She's better than the internet."

"Again with the muggle expressions," I complained to him. "What does this one mean?"

"Um…the internet is like…ah…Hermione, help me out here would you?"

"It's a muggle device," she answered promptly with a long suffering look at Harry. "People all around the world can connect to it, with the right tools, and it has a ton of information on it. For one thing, you can access practically any library in the world, in whatever language you choose."

"That sounds fascinating," I admitted. "And very handy. Is there some way to adapt it for our world?"

She seemed quite taken with the idea, and her head tilted slightly as she pondered the notion. "I don't know. It would be nice to have, though. What are you supposed to know, Malfoy?"

Harry had a point, there was little in the world that Granger didn't know. She could save me hours of research. "According to Snape, the use of ceramic dishes to contain dragon's blood wasn't put into use until the late sixteenth century. What was used before ceramic?"

"Glass bowls," she replied promptly. "There were actually several craftsmen that did nothing but blow glass instruments for use in potions and other magical areas. In fact, there was a guild started in the early twelfth century called Glasden, and their art was used solely for the benefit of wizards and witches. Really, all reports were that glass worked extremely well in containing dragon's blood, I'm not sure why they switched to ceramic."

"I told you she'd know." Harry was grinning at Hermione, seemingly unsurprised by this fount of information. 

"I never doubted you. I don't think I've ever seen Granger stumped by a question. I'm just not used to the concept of being able to access this particular fountain of knowledge." I gave her a nod of thanks, which she smiled at. 

"Now you can," he responded simply. "Now that you have your question answered, you can help me with my homework."

"And why would I want to do that?" Not that I wouldn't, but it's always fun to see Harry squirm. 

"Because its Potions, and you don't want our cauldron exploding in your face tomorrow," he retaliated with an innocent smile. 

That was a good point. "…hmph. Fine, you win."

"And why can't Hermione help you?" Weasley ground out between clenched teeth.

"Because she's helping you," Harry pointed out reasonably. 

"Oh stop it Ron," Granger sighed in despair when the redhead opened his mouth to continue arguing the point. "They're friends too. I know its weird, but they obviously like spending some time together. Just sit down and stop being a prat."

He sat, but wasn't happy. I ignored him which was quite easy to do, focusing on Harry. Under the table my hand found his, loosely gathering it up. Blindly I traced the back of his hand with my thumb, the skin soft and warm. He flashed me a quick smile at the innocent caress. In his eyes I could see the desire for us to be alone, and it was something that was reflected in me. 'Tonight', I mouthed at him. 

He nodded in agreement, his hand tightening in mine. 

With effort I turned back to our open text books and the homework assigned before I could get caught staring like a love struck fool into Harry's eyes. 

~*~

Being a Prefect was a position of honor and all that, but sometimes I wish I could hand the duty off to someone else. Especially when I was tired. I'd had Quidditch practice today, and after that had snuck up to the Room of Requirement to spend a too short hour with Harry. My lips were still tingling from our snog fest. Every time we met, it became harder to leave him. 

I really, really wish the rest of the school would get their fucking act together so I can openly claim my boyfriend. If they didn't, I was going to start hexing people and damn the consequences. 

I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see who else was out so late at night. Only Prefects were supposed to be up and about at this late hour, or teachers. I was only vaguely surprised to see Granger walking toward me. She was diligent about patrolling the hallways at night; I'd seen her on my rounds before. 

"Malfoy, have a moment?"

Nodding, I stayed still and waited for her to catch up. Granger was at least friendly now, giving me insights into what she was truly like. I could see why Harry was friends with her. The Weasel was another matter entirely. "Need something, Granger?"

She stopped a foot away from me, eyes too wise and penetrating. "It would be nice if you were honest with me."

I arched an eyebrow. What was she getting at? "I beg your pardon?"

"You and Harry have told me a great deal about this summer, Malfoy," she responded with quiet intensity eyes still searching my face. "But there is something that you aren't telling me, something very important. What is it?"

"What makes you think there is something?" I countered, heart racing. Could I possibly tell her? I'd made great strides in getting Hermione to trust me, but I wasn't sure she was ready to hear that I was boinking her best friend. 

"I've seen the way you look at him, Malfoy. You want more from Harry than just friendship."

Damn, she was observant. I side stepped it, trying to buy time to think. "That's an interesting observation, Granger."

"I'm right," she countered primly. "Does Harry know how you feel about him?"

Yes, as a matter of fact he did. "Granger, forgive me if I'm a trifle confused. Two weeks ago you couldn't stand me, now you're acting as if it's perfectly acceptable if I lust after your best friend." 

"Two weeks ago I thought you an evil little cockroach," she countered in amusement, "now I see that you're still a prat, but you do have some redeeming qualities. All I'm saying is that if you do try to get together with Harry, I'm not going to kill you."

As bizarre as this conversation was, I was equally fascinated. Apparently I had made better strides with her than I suspected. "Indeed. Why?"

"Because you're good for him," she answered simply. "I've never seen Harry healthier, or happier. He's more at ease with you than with me and Ron, in some ways. I don't understand how it came about, but I can see what's in front of my eyes. Do you want him, Malfoy?"

Looking into her eyes I read no condemnation. "Yes, I do."

She smiled, looking smug. "I thought so. I think your chances are good, as I've seen Harry look at you too. If you want help strategizing on how to get him, just ask."

This was really too bizarre. "I will."

With a last nod she turned and walked away. "Good night, Draco."

"Good night…Hermione."

~*~

"She said *what*?" 

Harry's reaction was so priceless. The dropped jaw, wide eyes behind his glasses, blatant surprise scrawled all over his face. I'd dragged him away from the table this morning and out into a deserted courtyard so I could talk to him about last night's interesting revelation. It had well been worth getting up early in order to do so. "You heard me. She actually said she'd help me plot to get your innocent self into my Slytherin paws. Well, not in those words, but that's what she meant."

"Blimey." Sinking onto one of the stone benches he stared in a daze at nothing. "I mean, she'd said that you weren't so bad now and she could see how I could be friends with you…but I hadn't suspected that…I mean…"

I took sympathy on his speechlessness and nodded. "I know. I didn't confirm anything last night, except that I did want you. I think we should tell her soon, Harry. If nothing else, having Hermione's support would be very beneficial. Her acceptance is bound to influence others."

"Like Ron," he agreed with growing enthusiasm. 

"And most of the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws," I added. "A lot of people respect her, and not just because she helps tutor practically half the school."

"Yeah, that's true." 

I sat down on the bench next to him as he thought everything through, enjoying sitting close enough for our legs to touch. 

"Let's tell her tonight," Harry suddenly announced. "I'll bring her up with me when we meet tonight and we can break the news then."

"And then we'll send her back to her room," I added pointedly. I was not giving up much of my Harry time, not when it was so well earned. 

"I'll come up early, say by an hour or so," he compromised. "You know it will take a while to explain everything to her."

I nodded, because he was right. "Come on, we don't have much time left and I *don't* want another question assigned to me by Snape."

"Why worry, you can always just ask Hermione."

"Harry, despite what you think, Hermione does not know *everything*. He's bound to ask a question eventually that she can't answer."

Harry shook his head as he walked with me back into the Great Hall. "The world will end before that happens."


	11. Chapter Eleven: Miscalculations

Chapter Eleven: Miscalculations

Forgiveness is a funny thing. It warms the heart and cools the sting.   
\--William A. Ward

As I was crossing one of the courtyards I saw Harry coming from the other direction, and for once he was alone. Screw waiting for tonight, maybe I could have some time with him now. We had to explain everything to Hermione tonight and despite all of our plans that was bound to cut into our snogging time. I'd like to avoid that if possible. I quickened my pace, trying to think of a semi-discreet way to catch his attention. I don't know what he was thinking about, but his head was down and he was oblivious to the fact I was walking toward him. 

"Draco, darling!"

Oh *shit*. 

I barely had time to turn before Pansy had launched herself at me and planted a kiss on my mouth. She was like a barnacle when she got in these moods, the word clingy didn't do her justice. It took a couple of seconds to fight her off, and she came very close to being hexed into next year. I looked up sharply to see what Harry's reaction was—

He wasn't there. 

Dammit! I just knew that he'd jumped to the wrong conclusions. Turning on Pansy, I leveled a furious glare at her. "*What*," I bit off, "do you think you are doing?"

She rapidly backpedaled away, almost cringing. "Draco, I just missed you. You've been so…well, so cold to me recently…"

"Has it occurred to you that I am indifferent to your attentions? Do you not distinctly remember that I told you not to act like we're a couple *last year*? Knock it off, Pansy! And I'm warning you, the next time you touch me I will hex you so badly that it will take you *years* to recover." 

She started babbling about how sorry she was and how she'd make it up to me, but I couldn't spare her another moment. I had to find Harry. 

He's such a prat. 

I was stalking through the school hallways, eyes darting around for an errant, stupid, head strong idiot that I was unfortunately in love with. How, how could he think I was just playing him? Why didn't he even give me a chance? 

He's such a prat!

I finally spotted him, crossing one of the courtyards with Granger and Weasley. They were talking animatedly, but Harry just had his eyes on the ground, not saying anything. I recognized the expression on his face all too well. He was troubled, and hurt, and trying to hide it. 

Idiot. Prat! 

I shoved my way through a group of girls, moving to intercept him. He was so stuck in his own head that I was three feet away and he still hadn't noticed me. Granger and Weasley had though and were looking at me warily. 

Screw them, it was my Harry I was after. "Potter!"

His head jerked up as he stumbled to a halt, staring at me in anger and confusion, and pain. I felt like some giant fist squeezed my heart, seeing that pain in his eyes. Did he have so little faith in me? 

"What do you want, Malfoy?" he spat at me. 

"Damn you!" I hissed back. "Do you really think I want her pawing at me?"

"You didn't do anything to fight her off," he snapped back. 

"Actually, I did," I retorted. I was tempted to shake some sense into him, but Weasel was glaring at me murderously and I think he would have pounded me into the ground if I started something. I had to get Harry straightened out first. "But you didn't stick around to see that! You stood there for what, a full second before you jumped to your idiotic conclusions?"

He moved until he was toe to toe with me, and I could see that his eyes were red from crying. Damn, damn, *damn*. "*Why* was she even jumping you in the first place?" he snarled between clenched teeth.

"Because she's in the habit of doing it," I ground out. "And she thinks she can do it again this year because you're too damned secretive!"

"Malfoy," Weasley started angrily, "back off—”

Harry threw out a hand, stopping his friend in his tracks. I didn't take my eyes from Harry's. He was listening to me, really listening and looking into his eyes I knew—he didn't want to lose me either. 

"You didn't want anyone to know," I said quietly. There was bitterness to it, but I swallowed hard and modulated my tone before continuing. "And I agreed that it was necessary. But this is the result, Harry."

His eyes flashed with fire. "I don't give a fuck who knows!" he growled. 

"Prove it," I purred dangerously. 

Very, very deliberately he closed in the distance between us, hands coming up to frame my face. I tilted my head, and the world fell away as his mouth touched mine. The kiss was soft, hesitant. Maybe he was afraid that I was still angry with him, I don't know. I slid both arms around his waist, bringing him flush against me and pressed my mouth more firmly against his. 

There was a heartfelt groan against my lips, and the tenderness fell away to be replaced by pure hunger and relief. I kissed him back just as fiercely, trying to relay by touch alone that I was sorry, too. Sorry that Pansy had jumped me. Sorry that I hadn't thought to warn him about her. Sorry that my carelessness had hurt him. 

Reluctantly he pulled back, eyes searching mine. I smiled up at him, hands moving in small soothing circles on his back, trying to tell him with my eyes that it was perfectly alright to hex Pansy into next year. I'd help, even. He grinned back in relief. 

"Harry." Granger came around to catch our attention, and her voice was carefully neutral. "I think you'd better explain what's going on."

I arched an eyebrow. "You were on the right track, Hermione."

"Draco," Harry hissed. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"What? If they couldn't guess after you snogging me senseless then they're hopelessly dense," I muttered back. Turning back to Hermione and Weasley I announced calmly, "We're lovers."

I seriously thought she was going to faint from shock. Weasley looked like he was having a heart attack. 

Harry groaned. "Way to break it to them gently, Draco."

I just arched an eyebrow back. "Like I said, if they couldn't figure it out, then they're hopelessly dense." He sighed, slumping slightly, but didn't reply. Ha, won that round. 

It wasn't just Hermione and Weasley that I had to worry about. I think the whole bloody school was in the courtyard by now. There was a buzzing going around us as people were whispering frantically to each other. I was still very much wrapped in Harry's arms and I suddenly had no desire to leave them. If there was anyone that could get me out of this mob alive, it was the Golden Boy. 

Harry picked up on it too, and his arms tightened around me. "Let's get out of here."

That sounded like an excellent plan to me and I nodded firmly. 

"Hermione? Ron?" Harry didn't have to say anything else, they just nodded to him and started breaking a way through the crowd for us. Maybe there's something to this Gryffindor loyalty after all. Any decent Slytherin would have asked a million questions before sticking their necks out. 

People grumbled, but moved and let us pass. 

We finally made it to the hallway, which was relatively clear compared to the courtyard. 

"We need to talk, Harry," Weasley growled with a glare in my direction. 

I took a step away from Harry, letting my arms fall to my sides. Harry immediately caught my arm, alarmed and confused. "I'm just giving you privacy to explain to them," I explained quickly to avoid any other crossed lines of communication. 

He shook his head, smiling softly. "I'm better with you than without you, Draco. We'll both explain."

I softened immediately and then kicked myself for doing it. Damn, I have got to get some control over this relationship before I go completely soft. It was just hard to argue with Harry when he looked at me like that. "Okay. Lead the way."

We went up to the third floor, and the Room of Requirement. Harry did the honors of walking back and forth three times, setting the room up for us. I walked in after him, taking in the comfortable chairs and the small coffee table. Harry went directly to one of the chairs, pulling me down into his lap and wrapping me comfortably up in his arms. 

I sighed and relaxed against him. This was where I had wanted to be all damn day, but I hadn't pictured the audience with it. Hell, they were Harry's friends, he could explain it to them. I just let my eyes fall closed and enjoyed being in my lover's arms. 

Weasley sounded like he was eating rocks as he snarled, "When did this happen? *Why* did this happen?"

"It happened over the summer," Harry admitted without a shred of remorse. "Long story short, Draco switched sides about two months ago and was living in Dumbledore's house. After what happened with Dudley, I went to live there too, and we just…"

I grinned when he stalled. It did defy any explanation, what happened between us. Hell, I'd lived through it and I still couldn't offer you a decent explanation of how I'd fallen in love with my worst enemy. 

"Just what?" Ron snapped. 

"Just fell in love," Harry responded helplessly. 

"WITH MALFOY?!"

I opened my eyes, lifting my head enough to glare at him. "Weasley, as astonishing as you might find the fact, I'm not an absolute bastard. I'm perfectly capable of having a steady relationship with someone. And before you think of it, no, I didn't use Imperious or seduce him."

Harry snickered slightly. "Actually, I think I seduced you."

"It's your bad habit of wandering around in the morning with only jeans on," I grumbled back. "I had a hard time remembering why I was angry with you."

At that, he laughed out loud. 

It wasn't funny, I was serious! How could I have possibly stayed mad with walking eyecandy like that in front of me? 

Weasley made a noise like he was about two seconds from erupting. Hermione on the other hand was watching us carefully. I could just see that formidable brain of hers clicking at high speed. "Why," she asked slowly, "didn't you tell us?"

"I was trying to ease you into it gently," Harry offered sheepishly. "I was afraid Ron might have a heart attack otherwise."

"I was going to do the same with the Slytherins," I admitted with a heavy sigh. "Starting with Pansy, so she wouldn't outright kill me the first time I dropped my guard." 

Hermione nodded her head, agreeing with both of us. "Probably wise. So why did that plan get thrown out the window? Harry looked very upset with you, Draco."

I couldn't meet anyone's eyes and glared at the floor. "Pansy jumped me and he jumped to the wrong conclusions."

"I don't like people kissing my boyfriend," Harry growled next to my ear.

I twisted so that I could glare at him. "Are you completely mental, Harry? Who *wants* to be kissed by Pansy?"

"I hate to agree with Malfoy on anything, but he's got a point there." Weasley made a face. "How can you stand her, Malfoy?"

I made a face. "Believe me, it wasn't easy." Twisting around a bit more I nuzzled along Harry's jaw. "I don't want her," I whispered against his skin. "I want you."

"So," he murmured back, "can I hex her for putting her grubby little paws on my boyfriend?"

"Stand in line, Boy Wonder, I get a go at her first." But I smiled when he asked. 

"Ron, you might as well accept this," Hermione suggested in a mild tone that nonetheless made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight. "They're happy together, and I *like* seeing Harry happy." 

Weasley let out this long, tortured sigh. "Harry, I'm guessing that you won't be happy with us if we're mean to the little—I mean, to your boyfriend."

"Pretty much, yeah." Harry's voice was deceptively mild. 

I was more interested in makeup sex at this point than anything, but I recognized that this wasn't the time or place for it. I settled back into Harry's arms, incidentally catching Hermione's eyes as I did so. She had this thoughtful, faintly approving look on her face that captivated my attention. "What?"

"I know I said that it would be good for you two to get together—” Weasley made a noise like a dying mouse, which everyone ignored "—but I hadn't expected *this*." With a thoughtful look at me she asked Harry, "Are you sure it isn't a love potion?"

Harry just laughed, taking the teasing in stride. At least, I hoped she was only joking. "I'm sure. We have way too many arguments for it to be a love potion." 

"Now there's an idea," I drawled cheerfully. "Thank you, Hermione, now I know how to get him to agree with me the next time he's being a pain in the ass. I know of several love potions that are quick and easy to brew…"

Harry mock groaned. "Thanks, Hermione. He doesn't need any more ideas, its hard enough keeping up with him as it is."

"The threat goes both ways," she pointed out.

I was quick to deny this. "No it doesn't, he's lousy at potions." 

"I'm not," she parried with a too sweet smile on her face. 

Harry gave a low chuckle that resounded in my ear. "The Gryffindor Trio outmaneuvers you again, Draco."

I twisted around again so that I could put my mouth right against his ear. "I'll take my revenge in bed."

"Harry, you've gone red." Hermione sounded like she was laughing. 

"I don't want to know what he said!" Weasley quickly pronounced. "Anything dealing with you two and sex is just not something that I want to picture." 

Harry cleared his throat. "So, are we okay?"

Hermione and Weasley exchanged quick glances, shrugged, then turned back to us. "We're okay," she assured him. 

"But Malfoy, you keep insulting my family or Hermione, and I'll hex you whether you're Harry's boyfriend or not," Weasley warned in a dire tone. 

I rolled my eyes at him. "Weasley, be serious. Do you really think Harry is going to forgive me insulting any of his friends? I happen to like having a sex life, thank you very much, and that will pretty much stop if I piss Harry off. Besides, Hermione's not so bad." 

Weasley made a face, probably because he still didn't want to think of his best friend bonking a Malfoy, but nodded in understanding. "Okay, just so we're clear. Since the news about you two is pretty much going to be all over the school by now, what kind of damage control are we going to use?"

Aw hell, the plan was shot now. Harry and I exchanged a pained grimaced. "He's going to kill us," I mourned.

Harry shook his head. "You mean he's going to kill me. He'll probably only lecture you."

"Who?" Hermione demanded. 

"Severus," I sighed. "He's not happy that Harry and I are together to begin with, and the only way he'd let us back into school is by making sure we had a plan to deal with everybody. But now the plan's history, and we don't have a backup." 

"I'm not sure if you need one at this point," she denied thoughtfully. 

"…I'm sorry?" As far as I could see, we were screwed. "What are you talking about Hermione?"

"Look, Draco, over the past two weeks that we've been at school you and Harry have rammed it down people's throats that you're on the good side and you're fast friends. Its weird, but we've gotten used to the idea. But really, we'd have believed it all faster if you and Harry had come right out and said that you're together." 

I was beginning to see her point. "Because then they'd believe that we were hopelessly attracted to each other and Harry seduced me, which led to me switching sides?"

"Well, something like that anyway," she muttered. "My point is, this isn't quite the catastrophe that you're envisioning. Just be honest about it. Say that you wanted to give everyone a chance to see you together before you came out of the closet." 

"Do you think that will work?" Harry murmured a little doubtfully. 

"Maybe," I allowed. "But it will only work under one condition."

"Oh?"

My grin up at him was completely naughty. "We'll have to be very, *very* affectionate. The more exposure that people have to us, the quicker they'll get used to the idea. I guarantee you that in a month's time, they'll be so accustomed to seeing us together they won't even remark on it."

Harry was staring at me doubtfully, but he didn't voice any disagreement. "You're the master of manipulating people, not me. I'll just follow your lead." 

"Good. I think you're right, Hermione." Swallowing a nervous smile I added, "I just hope that my godfather sees it your way."


	12. Chapter Twelve: Confrontations

Chapter Twelve: Confrontations

Why do they always teach us that it's easy and evil to do what we want and that we need discipline to restrain ourselves? It's the hardest thing in the world--to do what we want. And it takes the greatest kind of courage. I mean, what we really want.   
-Ayn Rand 

My godfather did not, in fact, see it Hermione's way. 

Don't ask me how, I have no idea how he knew, but he met us at the door of the Room of Requirement and he did not look happy. His glare was at both of us, but it seemed to me that he was automatically putting most of the blame on Harry, as usual. I stepped in front of my boyfriend, shielding him and drawing all the attention on myself. "Don't," I warned Severus sharply. "It's my fault, not his. Don't blame him for this."

"By all reports it was Mr. Potter that kissed you in front of a crowded courtyard," he drawled darkly. 

"I was the one that hurt him, and the one that urged him to be open about us." My tone was quite firm. "We have discussed the situation and have decided on a course for damage control."

That gave him pause. Giving the Gryffindors a long look he took in the fact that they weren't angry or waving wands around. "I see. So you do at least have their support."

"Yes," I confirmed. "And some of the Slytherins, as you know."

"Hmph." 

Harry's arm came around my waist, squeezing gently in support. I leaned into him, as much as for comfort as to make a point. We got a sneer for our efforts. 

"The cat is out of the bag," Severus finally admitted with a heavy sigh. "I trust that you will deal with the fall out. If you have difficulties come to me," he added grudgingly. "I do not entirely approve of this, but I don't want either of you hurt."

"Thank you, sir," Harry answered with honest gratitude. 

Severus gave us one last look before spinning about and stalking away. We all let out a breath of relief once he was gone. 

"That went much better than expected," I admitted. 

"Much," Harry agreed fervently. "It's close to dinner now, let's go eat."

"A good idea." I was certainly hungry. I didn't understand the contemplative look that my boyfriend was giving me, though. 

"Why don't you eat with us?" he asked. 

My first instinct was to question his sanity. Me? The Slytherin Prince at the Gryffindor table? Then I saw his point. It would really show where I stood if I ate at the Gryffindor table. I gave the other two a sharp glance. "Are you alright with this?"

"I think it will help drive the point home," Hermione admitted. Cheekily she added, "Don’t worry, Draco, we'll protect you." 

I scowled at her. "I don't need protection."

"Say that again while you're in Gryffindor territory," Harry dared with an amused smirk. Grabbing my hand he started towing me after him. 

~*~

How do I get myself into these situations? 

Admittedly it was hilarious when I sat down at the table right next to Harry. Finnegan actually fell off the bench, and Longbottom would have shared the same fate if not for Harry's quick reflexes. The Gryffindors were somewhat used to me being polite, as I hadn't insulted/hexed/bullied any of them since school started—they obviously didn't know how to respond to me being in their territory however, especially since I was accompanied by the Gryffindor Trio.

"Harry," Ginny Weasley was giving me a suspicious look, "why is he here?"

"Because I'd like to eat with my boyfriend," Harry answered quite calmly. I knew him well enough to see that he was fully expecting fireworks at that statement and would enjoy the show when they went off. 

Every Gryffindor within hearing range said, "WHAT?!" in nearly simultaneous outraged tones. It was music to my ears; I do so enjoy teasing hapless Gryffindors. 

Amused, I cocked an eyebrow at Harry. "Shouldn't you alert Madam Pomfrey before you make comments like that? I think several of your housemates are on the verge of having heart failure."

"Nah, they're tough Gryffindors, they'll survive." He immediately contradicted himself by noting, "Besides, she's right there at the head table, she can get here fast enough." 

"Boys," Hermione reproved. It was a minor shock to my system to realize that she meant me as well. "I know this is funny, but do try and be nice. You've had your fun, now explain."

"What do you want me to do, Hermione?" Harry was clearly exasperated. "Stand up on the table and make a general announcement?"

The look on her face said she expected just that. I rolled my eyes. "Oh for the love of Merlin—” Standing up, I tugged at Harry's arm. "Come here."

He stared at me in bewilderment. "Why?"

"Just come *here*."

"Okay, okay." Still confused, he climbed off the bench to stand next to me. 

With no warning at all I grabbed him tightly by the waist, turned him sharply so most of the hall could see us, then dipped him, kissing him passionately as I did so. He jerked in surprise at first, hands scrambling at my shoulders to find some purchase, but when I didn't drop him he slowly relaxed and kissed me back. 

There was this absolute stark silence for a full ten seconds, then someone started clapping and someone else let out a sharp whistle. Deeming that I had gotten the point across, I let up and slowly straightened us both. Harry was panting, slightly flushed. As he blinked back into focus he started grinning at me. "Well, that's one way of doing it, I guess." 

I gave him a wink before turning to our wide-eyed audience. "Any questions? No? Excellent, I do hate cold food. Carry on, everyone." Giving them a grand wave of the hand I sat back down, tugging Harry down with me. 

Hermione was giving me a weary look. Cheekily I asked, "That not what you had in mind, Hermione?"

"You're a prat, Draco," she grumbled. 

"Never claimed otherwise," I pointed out without losing a whit of my smile. 

Weaslette—I’ve got to get into the habit of thinking of her as Ginny before my tongue slips—was glaring at us suspiciously. “When did this happen?”

“Nearly…” Harry did a quick mental calendar check. “What, four weeks ago?”

“About that, give or take a day,” I concurred. 

Her glare didn’t ease up. “Harry, why didn’t you tell us?”

“I wanted to sort of ease you into the idea,” he admitted. “And Draco was worried Parkinson would murder him in his sleep.”

“I’m still worried she’ll murder me,” I muttered into my plate. “She’s a spiteful bitch, and seeing me with Harry of all people…” I stopped cold, stiffening in my seat. Have you ever just known that someone was behind you? On sheer instinct I knew who it was, and my wand hand twitched. “Speak of the devil…she’s right behind me, isn’t she?”

The look on Hermione’s and Ginny’s faces was pretty much a confirmation. 

Damn, it was a bad idea to sit with my back to the Hall. I slowly turned, looking up into the face of a woman scorned. Shakespeare was quite right; hell hath no fury in comparison to Pansy at that moment. 

“Draco,” she snarled and the sound was like crushed granite. “Can I speak with you privately?”

First rule in dealing with Slytherins—never go anywhere alone. Alone, there are no witnesses. I quickly thought of a compromise. “Either Harry goes with me or a silencing charm without leaving the room.”

Her glare at Harry was venomous. “Silencing charm.”

“Fine.” 

Harry caught my arm as I stood up, face worried. I touched his face in a brief reassuring caress, silently saying it would be alright. He didn’t look like he believed me, but he let me go. The room was deathly silent as I followed Pansy to the back of the hall. I was quick to set up the silencing charm, giving me an excuse to have a wand in my hand without being obvious about it. 

As soon as it was in place she let loose. “What do you think you are doing?! It’s POTTER!”

“Indeed it is,” I answered calmly. Deliberately I put it into Slytherin terms for her. “I choose to be with one of the most powerful wizards of our age, not to mention one of the hottest. Why is this surprising?”

“Because he is suppose to be our worst enemy!”

“I’m not a Dark wizard, Pansy,” I corrected with deceptive softness. “Or have you forgotten?”

The color seemed to drain from her face, leaving her white and trembling. “You mean…it’s not an act? You really *did* defect?”

She’s only now getting this? “Yes.”

“Damn you, Malfoy!” she snapped angrily. “What are you doing? What are you thinking?! It’s not supposed to be like this!”

I knew well what Pansy had envisioned for her future, and that I featured prominently in those plans. “Pansy, listen to me carefully. Even if I had never defected, the life that you dreamed up would never have happened. Under Voldemort’s reign, we would not have survived to adulthood. At least with Dumbledore and Harry, I stand a chance of living—not just surviving, but *living*.” 

Not a word of what I said seemed to penetrate. “You choose him just for that?”

It would be like adding fuel to a fire, but I couldn’t let her think that. Lies, as I had learned, did nothing but harm. Slowly I shook my head, mentally preparing for the worst. “I chose him because I love him.”

Her face contorted in pain and rage, a hideously ugly expression. A scream burst from her mouth in sheer wordless denial. 

What happened next was nearly simultaneous. Her wand shot into her hand as mine came up. I think we shouted spells at the same time. 

“*Crucio*!” she screamed. 

All of those drills that Dumbledore had put us through snapped into place and I said “Interceptum” without thinking. For the first time in my life, it worked. It actually worked. The curse never hit me. Before she could cast something else I quickly added, “Expelliarmus!” 

Her wand went flying, breaking the silence charm. I didn’t even have time to turn to look for Harry when he was just suddenly beside me, wand also pointed at Pansy. Dumbledore and Severus were right behind him. 

“Draco, what is going on?” Severus demanded. 

I ignored him for a moment, accioing Pansy’s wand to me—just in case. “I’m afraid Miss Parkinson did not take the news of my true allegiances well,” I managed in a neutral tone. “A calming draught is in order.” Before I had to hex her. Even without a wand she looked ready to attack me. 

“Miss Parkinson, if you will come with me.” Dumbledore had lost his twinkle, looking solemn for once. He took her by the arm and kept a firm grip on her as he left the room. I only relaxed once she was gone. 

“Are you alright?” Harry asked me quietly.

Slowly I nodded. Adrenaline was still pumping in my system, but I was fine. Without a word I handed the wand over to Severus—he could give it back to Pansy, if he felt she could be trusted with it. 

Harry put an arm around my waist, hugging me to him. “Come on, Dragon,” he murmured against my temple. “I think we’ve dealt with people enough today.” 

I could not agree more. 

~*~

Somehow, don’t ask me how, I wound up in Harry’s lap on a couch in the Gryffindor common room. What is it about being held that is so comforting? Wrapped up in Harry’s arms with my head against his chest, I felt like nothing could touch us. I’ve never felt so at peace in my life. Was it just because of the man holding me, or was it some elusive something that I hadn’t pinned down yet? 

A soft kiss was pressed against my head, and one hand rubbed a soothing circle against my back. I melted into Harry with a sigh, warm and comfortable. Just thinking about moving was a cardinal sin. 

“Draco, I don’t want you to go back to Slytherin.”

I might be relaxed, but apparently Harry was thinking. My brain woke up a little and considered it—Pansy was probably not the only one mad at me. Shielding charm or not, the entire school was vividly aware that I’d said something she vehemently disapproved of. That was not going to go over well with some of my housemates—Pansy’s friends particularly. Until I had a chance to really scope out the situation, staying the night at Slytherin was rather risky. “I don’t think it’s a good idea either,” I admitted. “But where else am I supposed to sleep?”

“With me.”

Is he seriously suggesting what I think he’s suggesting? “As tempting as that offer is,” I drawled sarcastically, “it’s rather against the rules.”

“You’re safer here than there,” Harry argued with worry clear in his voice. “Hermione won’t say a word about it, and McGonagall never checks the House. If I ask them to, nobody else will say anything either.”

I lifted my head up so I could see his eyes. “You’re serious.” 

“Yes, I’m serious,” he snapped. “Stay tonight.”

I was all set to argue the point, but really…Harry was famous for breaking the rules and getting by with it. If he thought I could stay without repercussions, who was I to argue? 

No, snuggling with him all night had *nothing* to do with my decision. Well, okay, not much. 

Snuggling back in against him, I hid a smile against his chest. “Well, if you insist.”

“Oh I do, dragon,” he whispered huskily against my ear. “I do.” 

It would probably be a waste of time worrying about pajamas.


	13. Chapter Thirteen: By Moonlight

Chapter Thirteen: By Moonlight

Change always comes bearing gifts.   
~Price Pritchett

Alright, it's official. Today sucks. 

Harry hadn't been quite correct. We did get in trouble for me staying the night. Most of Gryffindor didn’t seem to care—they were somewhat weirded out by it, but they didn’t really care. (I’m not counting either Weasley in that statement, they’re ready to lynch me for corrupting their Golden Boy.) It was Severus that took great delight in assigning us detention. I think he knew that we did it just because no one trusted Slytherin, but Severus still didn't like it that I would go to Harry before him for help—hence, the detention. 

He’s so childish! It’s natural that I go to my lover first, isn’t it? Why can’t he get that through his thick head? 

Severus knew good and well that letting us serve detention together wouldn't have been much of a punishment, so he sent Harry out with Filch and sent me to the Forbidden Forest to gather up potion ingredients. 

What added insult to injury was Weasley. 

Weasley, being Weasley, had done something stupid in Potions and for once Hermione hadn't been fast enough to catch him. Severus hadn't hesitated in giving him a detention. I rather thought he deserved it…but the timing was lousy. I didn't want to be stuck with the idiot redhead for three hours!

So here I was, trudging alongside a surly redhead who was still upset with me for corrupting his best friends. 

Alone. 

I'm going to get Severus for this. 

In mutual agreement we didn't talk more than absolutely necessary, and we worked as fast as possible. We hadn't been out for more than an hour gathering moonshade when Weasley suddenly yelped, fell flat on his back, then scrambled backwards on all fours. 

The forest was filled with all sorts of dangerous creatures, only some of them readily apparent. I was already on edge and with that panicked cry I whirled instantly, wand in hand, eyes searching frantically for any hint of danger—only I didn't see anything. "What?!"

Weasley was still scrambling backwards, halfway to me by now. "S-s-spiders!"

…huh?

I watched, flabbergasted, as the purportedly brave Gryffindor came and practically ducked behind me in panic. Up close, it was obvious that he was genuinely terrified—this was no act. I think the Bloody Baron had more color than Weasley did at that moment. 

Oh Great Merlin.

"Weasley." He continued to stare ahead, wand trembling. "Weasley!"

Finally he looked at me, swallowing hard. 

"Spiders?" Surely I hadn't heard him correctly. 

He nodded frantically, eyes darting about on the ground. 

I couldn't believe the situation—I especially couldn't believe having this hulking Gryffindor hiding behind me for protection. My life is so surreal these days. "You've faced ogres, dark wizards, and three-headed dogs…and you're afraid of *spiders*?"

His glare was mutinous, but he didn't say anything. He barely spared me more than a glance before going back to looking for creepy crawlies with eight legs. 

I've heard my share of ridiculous fears, but this one took the cake. The me of three months ago would have ridiculed him, but…ah hell. 

Allies. I have to be nice to my allies. 

I grabbed his sleeve, the bag of plants we'd gathered, and led him away from the horrible, terrorizing, and oh-so-dangerous spider. 

Once we were far enough away, he seemed to snap out of it. I think we were both ready to just call it a night, but Severus's potential displeasure was hanging over our heads, so we went back to gathering up moonshade. 

The pleasant silence of the night was disturbed by the irritable demand of "Why don't you say something?"

I blew out an irritated breath. He just couldn't leave it alone, could he? I wanted to hex him, but that would get me in a world of trouble. Instead, I played Dumbledore for a moment. "Good manners are always called for." 

He rounded on me, irritated and suspicious. "What the hell does that mean?"

The urge to hex him went up another notch, but I managed to choke it back. "In other words, I think your fear is stupid but I'm being nice and not saying anything."

"Oh yeah," he growled, "you're real good at holding back."

"You brought it up," I retaliated sweetly. 

"You would have done something eventually," he shot back. 

Its late on a Friday night, I'm in the middle of the Forbidden forest instead of a nice comfy bed, with someone that I can't stand and am not allowed to hex for fear of my boyfriend's displeasure. Harry so owes me for this. "No, actually, I wouldn't have. Teasing my boyfriend's best friend about his phobias is something of a faux pas, you see."

"You've got Harry wrapped around your little finger." The expression on his face was ugly. "I wouldn't put it past you to humiliate me then get around it by seducing Harry." 

I saw red. I have no clear memory of what happened next—I just found myself standing over a sprawled Weasley, my hand aching and a serious bruise growing on his right cheekbone. I stared down at his surprised face, feeling the urge to drop on top of him and keep pounding away. "Who are you trying to insult, Weasel, me or Harry? Do you really think that anything I did or said could compromise his integrity or loyalty?" I snorted in disgust and turned away before I lost my temper completely. "With friends like you, who needs enemies?"

I heard leaves crunch and fabric shift as he climbed back to his feet. I was fully prepared to spin around and do a petrificus totalus, and leave his sorry ass here the entire night. I might even do some kind of charm to attract spiders while I was at it. 

"I'm sorry, Malfoy."

…what did he just say? Slowly I turned, giving him an incredulous look. Weasley's shoulders were slumped, and he had one hell of a shiner growing on his face, and he seemed honestly contrite too. 

"I'm sorry," he repeated quietly, eyes steady on mine. "If the past six years has taught me anything, it’s that Harry would never betray anyone."

As mad as I was, it was hard to keep my righteous anger up looking at that forlorn expression. With a sigh I let it go. "The past five minutes have never happened, alright?"

"Alright," he agreed with a slight smile. "You pack a hell of a punch, Malfoy."

"And you have bones of granite," I shot back. "It *hurts* hitting you."

He out and out grinned. "Blame my mother. Too much calcium was rammed down my throat."

"That explains your ridiculous height too," I grumbled dryly. "Let's get this done, alright?"

We went back to work, but this time the silence between us wasn't fraught with tension. We even sniped at each other on the way back, in a somewhat good-natured fashion. 

I'm on amiable terms with a Weasley. Merlin spare us. 

~*~

Somehow the next morning I wound up at the Gryffindor table again for breakfast. I had not been sure of my reception at first—regardless of my reasons, I had punched Weasley. Depending on Weasley's explanation for that shiner I might or might not be in trouble. 

Harry had looked up as I walked into the Hall, giving me a bright smile. That happy expression pretty much told me all I needed to know. I relaxed instantly, smiling back. Phew. Not in trouble. Under his silent encouragement I walked over and joined him at the table. 

Weasley was in fairly good spirits, accepting the teasing about his shiner from his housemates. I was surprised to see that he hadn't seen Madam Pomfrey yet. In the light of day, it was…well…damn, had I hit him that hard? 

Hermione was watching the scene with the puzzled air of one who had been dropped into some foreign culture. Her expression pretty much clued me in that something odd was going on. I kept my ears open as I piled food on my plate. 

As I poured myself some pumpkin juice Weasley looked up, meeting my eyes. He nodded cordially, a smile still lingering on his face. "Hey Malfoy."

"Good morning." I couldn't help but ask, "Why haven't you seen Madam Pomfrey yet?"

"Too tired last night." He shrugged. "I'll go after breakfast."

I just shook my head in despair. "Don't Gryffindors have any pain receptors?"

"Don't blame it all on Gryffindors," Hermione objected. "It's a boy thing. We girls have better sense. And can someone explain to me why boys seem to form friendships by punching each other?"

You know, put it like that, and it seemed really stupid. 

"You're generalizing it too much, Hermione," Harry disagreed with a wave of his toast. "It's not that we form friendships punching each other, it's just how we get the air cleared." 

Her bemusement didn't ease one iota. I stepped in, trying to clarify it. "When boys fight, it’s our way of getting our differences out in the open. When the fight is over, the matter is settled." Hopefully. 

"Of course, that doesn't work if you're mortal enemies," Harry added with a dryly amused glance in my direction. 

"I never got into a fist fight with you," I objected mildly. I almost wish we had, maybe we would have settled our differences sooner. 

Ginny shared a resigned look with Hermione. "The male mind is a strange place."

"Truly," Hermione agreed with a roll of the eyes. 

Everybody went back to eating. I managed about two bites when Harry leaned in close to me and whispered, “Have you heard anything about Parkinson?”

“Severus updated me last night,” I admitted sourly. He’d explained the situation before sending me out on detention. “She’s in quite a bit of trouble. Dumbledore examined her wand and knows that she was casting Crucio before I blocked it. The general consensus right now is to suspend her from school—they might expel her, I don’t know. The Board of Education is arguing about it right now.” 

“Hm.” His eyes went dark, a sure sign of some internal debate. “I almost wish that she would be expelled,” he offered quietly. “At least that way you’d be safe from her.”

“I hope she isn’t.” At his look askance I explained, “There’s already quite a bit of tension in my house because of what happened. Expelling her would just make the situation worse.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Sighing, he started stirring his porridge aimlessly. “There’s no good solution, is there?”

“If there is, I can’t see it.” I realized that I had been toying with my toast absently, like Harry had been playing with his food, and made myself stop. The Slytherin Prince did not *fidget*. I must have picked up that bad habit from Harry. 

Harry shook himself, physically shaking off the somber mood that had fallen over us. “It’s against the rules to be depressed on a Saturday.”

“I must have missed that one in the school rules,” I drawled with a growing smile. Leaning in close I nuzzled along his jaw, enjoying the sharp masculine scent invading my nostrils. I hope Harry never develops the habit of wearing cologne. “Why don’t we go out by the lake and just relax today?”

“Why don’t I bring my invisibility cloak so no one can see us snogging?” he murmured back. 

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I see that we’re on the same page.” 

“People are trying to eat here,” Weasley complained. “Stop necking.”

Most of the people that heard that comment burst out laughing. Weasley went bright red, and started squirming guiltily. I had no idea what the story on this was, but it *must* be good. I arched a pointed eyebrow at Harry, silently demanding an explanation. 

“Ron and Lavender Brown were going out for a few weeks,” he explained with a smirk tugging at his mouth. “They were usually snogging like mad in the common room. Ron has absolutely *no* room to talk.”

“Go ahead and rub it in why don’t you,” Weasley grumbled, head focused on his plate. 

Harry lifted his hand, moving it in circles as if he were actually rubbing something. “Squeak, squeak.” 

For that indignity Weasley chucked a piece of toast at Harry’s head. Harry ducked, laughing, while Hermione scolded Weasley for throwing food. 

I went back to eating, with hot boyfriends and invisibility cloaks dancing in my head.


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Old Ties

Chapter Fourteen: Old Ties

It is curious that physical courage should be so common in the world and moral courage so rare.   
Mark Twain (1835 - 1910)

Call me paranoid, but getting summoned to Dumbledore’s office was making me twitchy. Getting called up to the headmaster’s office is never a good thing, in my limited experience. I walked up like one condemned to a lifetime in Azkaban. 

The stairs were already in view, saving me from having to say the password. I mean really…Sugar fairies? What kind of a password is that? I went up the stairs, bracing myself for the worst. Taking a deep breath I knocked lightly on the door. 

“Enter!”

I took another deep breath in, squared my shoulders, smoothed my face into calm lines, and opened the door. 

“Draco!” My mother was already rushing toward me, arms outstretched and a teary smile on her face. 

Aw nuts. I suffered the smothering hug with a withering look in Dumbledore’s direction. Couldn’t he have warned me that my mother was here? The old man just smiled at me benignly. Brat. 

Finally she withdrew a little, wearing a worried frown. “Darling, I’ve been so worried. I’ve heard the most astonishing rumors…I know that your note said not to worry, but really sweetheart, what are you thinking?”

“I have no desire to serve a madman,” I answered quietly. Shock exploded over her face and her hands dropped to her side. “Yes, mother, I’ve switched sides. I am no longer Voldemort’s henchman.”

“B-but Draco…” her eyes went down to my left arm and lingered there. 

“The Dark Mark is gone,” I said flatly in response to the obvious question in her eyes. She jerked in surprise, staring up at me in amazement. 

“That’s impossible! The Dark Mark cannot be removed!”

“Harry removed it.” My smile was sharp with satisfaction. “Yes, mother, Harry Potter is strong enough to defeat the Dark Lord himself—even over long-distance. You’re on the wrong side. There is no way that Harry can lose.”

“He’s still a child,” she breathed shakily. 

“Yes,” I agreed. I tried to project all the intensity I could into my voice and eyes, tried to get her to see what I knew to be truth. “And that *child* defeated the Dark Lord’s greatest magic. He hasn’t reached his full potential yet and still he can do something that has stumped the greatest wizards for years. Doesn’t that tell you how powerful he really is?”

“Is…is that why you changed allegiances?”

“No,” I was forced to admit. “Originally I changed because I didn’t want Voldemort to throw my life away for his petty amusement. Finding out how powerful Harry really is was a pleasant surprise.”

She turned away, sinking into a nearby chair and staring off into space as if she had no idea just what to think. I felt a twinge of sympathy—maybe I should have tried to break this to her easier. 

When she finally spoke, her voice was reed thin. “How could you have made such a reckless decision? You’ve always been so very practical.”

“Reckless?” I snorted at the very thought. “Joining Voldemort—that was reckless. Changing sides and joining the Light was the practical choice. Who wants to be allied with people that you cannot trust? It’s a recipe for madness.” 

“Well said, my boy,” Dumbledore complimented me. “Well said indeed. Mrs. Malfoy, I understand your confusion over your son’s decisions, especially since it seems that he never discussed anything with you.” Dumbledore gave me a pointed look for that. I just shrugged. I wasn’t sure even now if I could really trust my mother, which was why I wasn’t giving her any details to go off of. “Perhaps,” he continued, “you would like to have some privacy with him so that you can discuss this at length?”

I internally groaned. That was the last thing that I wanted to do! Especially without Harry. 

“Yes, thank you Headmaster,” she responded politely. 

“Feel free to use my office then,” he smiled at her genially. As he crossed to the door he leaned in close to me and murmured, “Here is an excellent chance to save at least part of your family, Draco. Use your words wisely.”

I nodded in understanding. Satisfied, he left the room and shut the door firmly behind him. 

I turned back to my mother and stifled a groan. This…was going to take a while. 

~*~

Three hours later and I was finally on my way back to the dungeons. My mother had asked questions, insinuated things, attempted to blackmail/threaten me, and the like for the entire conversation. I felt like I had repeated myself at least fifteen times. I finally just called a halt to the whole conversation, kissed her goodbye, and left. If she didn’t get it by now, then I wasn’t holding out much hope. 

What I hadn’t expected was finding Harry at the foot of the stairs, pacing back and forth with an anxious frown on his face. He spun about as I cleared the last step. 

“Draco, is everything alright?” he was already heading toward me, arms outstretched. “Dumbledore told me your mum was here, and you’ve been up there so long—”

I snuggled into his arms thankfully, just letting my head rest on his shoulder. Heaven forbid that I ever have another conversation like that one with my mother again. I felt like my head was splitting open. “It was not a fun conversation,” I admitted dourly. “I’m not sure if she agrees with my decision, but she knows that I’m not about to change my mind. We’ll have to wait and see what the reaction is.”

He tilted my head back, eyes searching my face for a moment. Something there told him of my utter exhaustion and worry and his face tightened. “You need a lie down.”

“I just need some peace, Harry,” I disagreed with a weary sigh. “Let’s go somewhere I can snog you and not have to defend my every decision and I’ll be happy.” 

“Okay,” he agreed quietly. Keeping one arm around my shoulders he led me away. 

“Mr. Potter.”

Harry turned at that quiet hail, which meant I was half-turned as well because of his hold on me. I didn’t have to look to know who it was, however—my mother. 

A flash of concern went through Harry’s eyes, but he hid his feelings well behind a polite expression. “Mrs. Malfoy. Is there something I can do for you?”

“I’d like to have a word with you, if I may.” 

My first instinct was a very vehement *no*. I stiffened in alarm, giving Harry a quick look to see what his reaction was. Far from being suspicious of this, he simply looked thoughtful. 

“Harry,” I hissed in warning. Surely he wasn’t actually thinking of going off somewhere alone with my mother. She was a Death Eater’s wife for heaven’s sake. 

His thoughtful eyes turned to me, and I could see everything being weighed and considered on his face. Then his face fell into determined lines, a familiar expression that meant I’d have an easier time of turning water into rum than changing his mind. But I tried to make him see sense anyway. “Are you *insane*?” I demanded under my breath. “Remember who she is!”

“I know who she is,” Harry refuted quietly. “I think it's you that might have forgotten.”

I blinked at him, confused at that cryptic comment. 

He turned back to my mother, still polite and calm. “Of course, Mrs. Malfoy. But I’m afraid the conversation will take place in front of Draco. If you wish to speak with me privately we can use a Silencing Charm.”

Narcissa Malfoy had been playing the game too long to be truly surprised, but I could tell she had expected more resistance from Harry. Still, she nodded and gestured for Harry to come closer. I was the one to cast the Silencing Charm, not wanting my mother’s wand out in close proximity with Harry. 

What they said was a complete mystery to me—at first their expressions remained neutral, for the most part. Then my mother said something that pushed the wrong button with Harry and his face became as black as a thundercloud. His hand made a slashing motion downwards, violent and almost shaking in fury. My mother flinched back in surprise, and whatever she said next was placating I’m sure. 

Several moments of this taut conversation passed before Harry walked out of the bubble, breaking the spell. Looking at his face, I couldn’t determine if the talk had gone well or not. I looked to my mother to see if I could get a better idea of what had gone on. 

“Draco, I am still unsure if your decision is wise,” she said with soft finality. “However, that is because I am unsure if your new allegiances have enough power to win against the Dark Lord. Whatever I might think,” her voice softened as she looked at Harry, “I must acknowledge that you have formed strong alliances.”

That was one of the highest compliments that a Slytherin could be given, that they had gained the absolute trust and loyalty of another person. I dipped my head to accept the compliment, pleased that she had at least seen that. 

She straightened, and the moment between us was broken. “By the end of the day your accounts will be changed so that they are solely in your name. Be well, Draco.”

I hadn’t expected the pang in my heart, or for my throat to constrict like it did. I’ve never been truly close to either of my parents—they were always too busy with work or social events to really pay much attention to me. They doted on me, but only when it was expected or convenient for them. But I was aware now that I would miss my mother, despite everything. I went to her and kissed her on the cheek, well aware that this could be the last time that I ever saw her. “May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rain fall soft upon your fields. May God hold you in the palm of His hand.” By the time that I had finished my voice was almost choked. Why did this have to be so terribly hard? Why did she have to make me choose like this, between safety and the person that I loved…and my family that served a madman? 

She blinked, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and bowed her head to accept the well-wish and blessing that I had given her. Normally it was the parent bestowing such a blessing upon a child—I suppose it said something that I felt she needed such protection more than I did. 

With one last look at the two of us, she turned and vanished up the stairs into Dumbledore’s office, no doubt so that she could floo back home. 

I had no idea I was crying until Harry reached up and gently wiped a tear away with the pad of his thumb. Without a word he wrapped me up in his arms, holding me so closely that I felt like I was shielded from the outside world. 

Sometimes life just wasn’t fair. 

There was the sound of boots against stone, and their rhythm was so quick and familiar that I knew instantly it must be my godfather. I took in a deep breath, trying to swallow my emotions and lifted my head enough to see him. 

Severus was apparently aware of what had gone on, because he looked worried. He approached quickly, for once not giving Harry a frown or the both of us a glare for being in each other's arms. He was simply focused on me. "Draco?"

"I couldn't convince her, Severus," I whispered brokenly. "I tried."

He nodded, looking sad and resigned but not particularly surprised. I guess that made two of us. 

~*~

The rest of that evening I was rather low in spirits. Harry, bless his noble and empathic Gryffindor heart, didn’t push me and just let me work through it on my own. It was nearly nine before I felt like company, and even then all I did was snuggle into my boyfriend’s side and just soak in the comfort he was offering me. Even Hermione and Ron sensed to leave well enough alone, and outside of a casual greeting and goodnight, let me be. 

This didn’t last long of course. I wouldn’t let myself fall into the doldrums forever. I had known that by going to Dumbledore I might lose my parents—frankly I blamed that more on their choices than on mine. *They* had been the ones to choose the wrong side, not me. Of course, they probably didn’t see it that way. It hurt, yes, but I had been preparing myself for it as well. 

So the next morning I was deliberately cheerful, and even if my heart wasn’t completely in the act, it was helping me to stop from hiding in my bed and brooding. The Great Hall was noisy as usual with the sounds of students gathering and eating breakfast. I strolled in like I always did and searched out my delectable boyfriend. 

I’m beginning to think he put a tracing spell on me, because I had barely cleared the doors when he looked up and spotted me coming in. He smiled at me brilliantly and gestured me closer. I’d planned on eating breakfast with him anyway, so I weaved my way through tables and people, plopping right down beside him on the bench. Before he could get a word in edgewise I leaned over and planted a very friendly kiss on his mouth. “Morning.”

He flushed a little, and blinked himself back into focus. “Er…good morning. Um, feeling better?”

I didn’t feel like having my mood analyzed so I just kissed him again, and this time I did a very thorough job of it. When I pulled back some minutes later, he was smiling dreamily and had obviously forgotten what he had just asked me. 

“I don’t think Draco wants to answer any questions this morning,” Hermione observed dryly. She had a textbook propped up near her plate, which didn’t surprise me in the slightest. I have to wonder sometimes if she was born with a book in her hands. 

“He’s good at manipulating Harry,” Ron observed. Only the twinkle in his eyes took the potential sting out of the words. Apparently he felt comfortable enough with me to tease, Merlin spare us. “I have to ask, Harry, why do you love this prat again?”

“Because I’m irresistibly sexy and charming,” I shot back. 

Ron rolled his eyes. “Nope, that’s not it.”

“*I* think he is,” Harry said quietly. He directed a soft smile at me, and everything in me just melted. 

Winding both arms around his neck, I rewarded him with another brief kiss. “You’re such a sentimental Gryffindor, Harry.” Not that I was complaining, mind you. 

“Stop right there,” Hermione interrupted with a roll of the eyes. “Draco, we have to get to potions in twenty minutes and you haven’t eaten anything yet. No snogging.”

“Kill joy,” Harry grumped but he let go of me so I could eat. 

I had just reached for the toast when I felt someone stop behind me. Turning slightly, I saw that Blaise was standing there…with a slightly uncertain look on his face. Hm. This was interesting. During this whole ordeal, one of the few people that had stood by me was Blaise. In fact, he was the only reason I could safely sleep in the dungeon—Blaise had my back, and I was so glad he was there. “Need something, Blaise?”

“Um…can I join you?”

My eyebrows shot up. Staying loyal to me was one thing—eating breakfast at the Gryffindor table was another thing altogether. But I gestured for Longbottom to move over, and made room for the Slytherin to join us. I think the entire table was watching us when he sat next to me on the bench, but they weren’t offering a word of protest. Maybe they were just as curious as I was to know why he was here. 

The first thought I had was that something was wrong. Lowering my voice I murmured to him, “Do I need to start watching for hexes flying about?”

“Not yet,” he muttered back with a wry smile. “I’ve…I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking. At first I thought you were crazy to choose Potter, I mean he’s *Potter* and all.” He clearly hesitated, choosing his words with care. “But I see how he takes care of you. Hell, the entire Gryffindor House takes care of you. No one in our House would ever do what they do, especially for someone that used to be their sworn enemy. I think…I think you were right to change sides.” 

Don’t quote me, but I could swear that several jaws hit the floor in astonishment at that statement. I didn’t look away from Blaise’s face to see for myself. Instinct said I didn’t dare lose eye contact with him now—there was something else that he had decided, I could see it in his eyes, and I wanted to know what it was. 

Wetting his lips nervously, Blaise darted a look at Harry before his eyes came back to mine. “Is…is it an exclusive offer? Or can I join you?”

Tension had been building in me ever since I saw Blaise, and it all melted in a rush at that question. Thank Merlin—thank Merlin, I could take at least one friend with me. I cast Harry a quick look over my shoulder, trying to subdue an urge to grin like a demented house elf. “I think in your case, Blaise, we’ll make an exception and let you join the good guys. Harry?”

“Well, he is your friend and all,” was the sardonic response but the tone couldn’t hide my boyfriend’s obvious excitement. Harry was beaming at us, eyes sparkling with relief and delight. 

Blaise grinned back, obviously just as relieved and excited. I was feeling the urge to do something Hufflepuffish and hug him—which was entirely ridiculous, so I said something offhand to deflate the enthusiasm a little. “Now that you’ve come to your senses, I expect your help in converting the rest of our House, Blaise. I thought if we started with the first years, we’d have a better chance of luring them over—”

“Draco!” Harry protested immediately, as I knew he would. “You can’t brainwash people into doing the right thing.”

“And why not?” I asked mildly. I do love provoking him sometimes. “Are you saying that you want people on the wrong side?”

“Well, no, of course not, but manipulating people into doing something is wrong—”

I rolled my eyes. “Spoken like a true Gryffindor.”

He growled at me. “Draco, in case it escaped your attention, you’re *going with* a Gryffindor.”

“Yes, and that doesn’t mean I’m going to change my ways. I’m a Slytherin,” I pointed out logically. “Am I right, Blaise?”

“I’d rather have them on our side than the Dark Lord’s,” Blaise agreed immediately as I expected he would. It was only logical, after all. “And I’ll take them any way that I can get them.”

Harry groaned. “Both of you are missing the point—”

What followed was a lively discussion that didn’t end until we had walked into the Potions classroom. It seemed completely natural for Blaise to be with us as we walked down the hallways. I looked around at the group—Granger, Weasley, Harry of course, Blaise, the Weaslette, Longbottom. All talking animatedly, all getting along. Five months ago this would have been impossible. 

I could trace it back in my mind to the exact moment when we started to change from enemies to allies. My grandmother certainly did know what she was talking about. Cleft points were a dangerous business. 

But in this case, I was glad for that one. 

Harry waved a hand in front of my face. “Daydreaming, Draco?”

“It is absolutely impossible to think around you people,” I sighed and frowned at the snickers this earned me. Here I was, trying to be profound, and they interrupt me. 

“Think later,” Weasley advised, “we have Potions now.” 

“Such advice certainly explains *your* poor marks in Potions,” I drawled sarcastically. 

It took a moment for that to sink in, then Weasley went red. “You prat, I’ll have you know I do think in Potions!”

“Not enough, apparently,” I retaliated sweetly. 

That started a nice round of bickering that was entertaining until Harry leaned over and kissed me to shut me up. 

I do so adore teasing Gryffindors. I get the nicest kisses from it.


	15. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did so enjoy writing this story. Draco is so unapologetically Draco in it. Brats are fun to write. 
> 
> Anyway, here it is, the last chapter. Hope you enjoyed!

Epilogue

Fortune favors the brave.   
Virgil (70 BC - 19 BC), Aeneid

"Draco, what are you doing?"

I turned from my desk in our study, looking toward the doorway to see Harry leaning just inside the doorjamb, an amused smile tugging at his mouth. It had been four months since Voldemort was defeated, and while there were still a few dozen Death Eaters to round up, the war was over. We had both felt a physical relief when the Dark Lord had died, giving us a freedom that we had never truly experienced in our lives. I found it easier to smile at Harry now, and smile I did even as I answered him. "I'm reviewing my checklist."

"Your what?" Curious, he came all the way in so he could look over my shoulder. 

Even though I had written up this list, and read it practically everyday, I read it through again as he did. The first on the list was practical—help Harry kill Voldemort. That one was triple checked, because we had been very thorough in killing the bastard. We did not want any resurrections. Number two on the list was "Do something with the ghastly mausoleum that Harry refers to as a house" which was double checked. It had taken a month of solid work, but 12 Grimmauld Place was beautifully decorated now—which was the only reason why I consented to live in the place. 

I knew when Harry had read item number three, because he burst out laughing. "Draco, you can't be serious! You seriously mean to have sex in every room of this house?"

I turned in the chair so I could yank him down into my lap. He landed with a yelp, hands landing on my shoulders so that he could balance himself a little. "Of course I'm serious," I purred at him in my best bedroom voice. From the way his face flushed, it was working. "So far, the bedroom, kitchen, master bathroom and parlor have been crossed off." 

His eyes widened a little as he started to remember having sex in all of those rooms—in just the last few weeks, too. "But Draco, there's something just *wrong* about having sex and Voldemort on the same page." 

I tsked him with a wicked leer on my face. "Harry, these are my life ambitions we're talking about, my goals for the future." Should I simply rip his shirt off or banish it with a spell? 

"And the first two were very practical," he agreed with a slightly choked voice. He was obviously aware that the next room on my agenda was the one we were currently sitting in. "Can't you at least tell me why you want to do this?" he added desperately. 

That made me pause. I hadn't really thought about it, but now that he'd asked the question, it made me consider the matter. Why had I decided that? "Because I like having sex with you?"

"Draco, that doesn't require that we shag all over the house," he pointed out dryly. "We bought that huge monstrosity of a bed and put it into our bedroom for a reason, remember?"

Too true. And I adore that bed. Tying Harry to the bedposts is one of my favorite pastimes. He had a good point, so I pondered the matter a moment more. It took a few moments of thought—Harry’s squirming as he attempted to get comfortable in my lap did *not* aid me whatsoever—but I finally put my finger on why I had come up with that goal. “Because it’s not a proper pureblood thing to do. You are only affectionate with your significant other behind closed doors—and usually the bedroom at that.”

That made him stop squirming, and he looked at me in careful consideration. Harry had learned over the last several months that I had hated my upbringing in some aspects. There were certain standards that I adhered to—dress code being one of them—and others that I chucked cheerfully out of the nearest window. This was one of those lessons that I wanted to toss. I didn’t want to be restrained on how affectionate I could be with Harry. 

I don’t know what he saw in my face, but he slowly started to grin. “I suppose, you being your usual methodical self, that you have a diagram of the house and an order of which rooms you want to go through first?”

“Of course I do,” I drawled. “With something this important, a plan is needed.” 

He tilted his head up so I could kiss him, an offer that I simply couldn’t refuse. 

“You’re such a Slytherin, Draco,” he murmured against my mouth. 

“And your point is…?” I drawled even as I ripped his shirt off. 

“And you’re wearing too many clothes,” he muttered in frustration. With a growl he started ripping off shirt and tugging the sleeves off my arms. He was *such* an impatient Gryffindor. 

As skin touched skin, I hissed in greedy pleasure. Well, maybe Gryffindor qualities of impatience and recklessness were a good thing…once in a while. 

~*~*~

FINIS.

The plot bunny was put on life support just to get it to this point. Sad, isn’t it? I’m just trying to figure out how Draco Imperiused my muse…  
Hope you enjoyed!


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